Written In The Stars
by downtoncat
Summary: Ever since that unfortunate incident, Thomas and Jimmy haven't been on the best terms. Jimmy is determined to keep his distance from Thomas, but after meeting a fortune teller at the Thirsk fair, Jimmy begins to realise that some things are simply written in the stars. (alteration and continuation of the events after s03e09)
1. A Dozen Moons

"Here's something for us! Alfred, Mr Branson," Jimmy enthusiastically announced and gestured towards the sign. _Tug of war_ it said. _Cash prizes to win_. Instead of spending money at the fair, they could be winning some – and it was a decent sum too. Jimmy's eyes glistened with excitement at the prospect. "Let's give it a go," he suggested.

The company following behind him all stopped and also proceeded to read what was written on the sign.

"I don't mind," Mr Branson said, a smile drawn across his face.

"What about you?" Alfred asked and examined Mr Barrow head to toe, with eyebrows raised in doubt that he would wish to partake.

Jimmy chuckled scornfully under his breath. "Isn't it a bit rough for Mr Barrow?"

He could feel Thomas's eyes slowly turning to him; that's why he made sure to look away, avoiding eye contact at every cost. Jimmy could handle Thomas giving him an angry look, but he knew it wouldn't be that. He would look at him exactly in a way that Jimmy hated the most – with sadness, akin to disappointment.

"Oh, I think I could manage."

This was the only emotionless reply Jimmy received before the dark-haired man made his way past him and moved along, headed towards other attractions at the fair.

Ivy and Daisy followed, their hearts set on finding some games, and Edna held Mr Branson's arm as they strolled along to see what interesting-looking stands they could find.

"Well," Jimmy shrugged as everyone but Alfred went about their business. "Let's go sign us up then."

Alfred nodded and the two stepped over to the stand across from them where they were signing up participants for the rope pulling contest.

"Right lads," the chubby man taking applications announced after they'd filled in the form. "Your team's up in half an hour."

Alfred turned to Jimmy. "Right, well I'm off to give the spices a look in the meantime," he said. "You comin'?"

Jimmy gave him a look of disinterest. "Huh, not really interesting that, is it?"

"Suit yourself," the tall man shrugged rather indifferently, and he was off.

As he was walking around, Jimmy found himself immersed in the sounds of the crowd. People chatting, laughing, cheering. Children running around, chasing each other playfully. The sound of the barrel organ a man played somewhere in the distance. Some acrobats with painted faces dancing and juggling skittles, around them a crowd applauding their performance.

The fair was a sight for sore eyes after long days at Downton; entertaining and exciting, full of people and experiences that called his name. Jimmy's mind was set on enjoying the day, basking in the sun, winning some money or a prize or two perhaps–

_Isn't it a bit rough for Mr Barrow? – Oh, I think I could manage._

The thought intruded Jimmy's mind like a blunt blow.

_Damn it, why are you thinking about it?! _He scolded himself. _You did nothing wrong, he did, that night when he- It was only a tease, and he deserved it, _he proceeded to convince himself angrily and desperately struggled to chase the thought away. _Why should you feel guilty about saying it?_ _Why are you even thinking about him!?_

It had been like this for a while; these intrusive thoughts about Thomas were not new to Jimmy, but when they started, he didn't register that it was Thomas making him upset. Whenever Jimmy would get irritable for seemingly no reason, he would think that he was just having a bad day or that he was snappy because he was stressed and had overworked himself. He only recognized anger and irritability; the consequences, not the cause of his feelings. Yet no matter how hard Jimmy tried to deny it, he could no longer avoid the cause.

Jimmy _did_ feel guilty about what he had said to Thomas earlier today at the fair. He wanted to take back the words the very same second he uttered them. It was uncalled for, and he didn't know why that was his immediate impulse. But then again, he tended to speak before he would properly think things through anyway, so he blamed it on that.

Ever since that unfortunate incident, Jimmy's instinctive reaction was to be mean to Thomas, to deflect his attempts of kindness with scorn. As if he needed to put up a wall, because for some reason he felt in danger of being scrutinized whenever Thomas was around. Jimmy was aware of what he was doing, but he couldn't stop himself because whenever he spoke to Thomas – in private or surrounded by others – he felt as if there was a threat. As if a part of him could become exposed – which was ridiculous because there was nothing to expose. There was no threat but still, Jimmy felt like he had to work extra hard to distance himself from that man. To make it absolutely clear that he was not the same as he was, that there was nothing–

His mind felt like it would burst. He had to stop thinking about it, he had to focus on the game that would soon start – but first, he needed to calm his nerves. _I could go for a pint_, he thought to himself, already scanning the surroundings for a stand that could provide the much needed beverage.

"Care to have your fortunes read, dear?" a voice behind him spoke.

He turned around to notice a short woman with long, dark brown, frizzy hair standing before him. She had olive skin and large round eyes that had to be the most remarkable feature of her face. She was far from old, but he concluded that she had to be at least a couple of years his senior.

"Um," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't think so, but thanks…"

His feet had already moved to carry him away, but the woman's hand, wearing an assortment of colourful beaded bracelets, reached for his wrist.

"Oh, do come," she insisted politely, without being discouraged by his response. She squeezed his wrist gently. "I sense a storm in ya. Your future begs you to listen," she continued in a strong Irish accent.

But then her face suddenly became pensive – as if she were falling in some sort of a trance – yet only for a split second.

Jimmy thought little such matters – fortunes, spirits and crystal balls – and he was getting rather uncomfortable. He yanked his hand away.

"I don't have time for th- "

"The night from twelve moons ago still remains with you, does it not?"

Jimmy remained riveted in his place. He stared at the woman, dumbfounded, baffled by her strange words, which made even more of an impact as they were delivered in an ominous tone and accompanied by her hazel-eyed gaze that relentlessly tried to establish eye contact. Jimmy felt very uneasy, and despite the warm midday sun that was shining on him he felt cold shivers run down his spine.

_The night from twelve moons ago…_ Her words echoed in his mind. He couldn't pretend that he wasn't intrigued after this, but still – a gypsy fortune teller? He scoffed at the idea. It was ridiculous to think that she could actually know anything about him- though admittedly, it was very odd- but he had to be on his way- but what was she talking about? He was torn between leaving right this instance and staying to learn more or to at least make sense of her words.

He stood there, still staring at her, she staring back, her expression blank and impossible to discern. She looked as if she were attempting to read his own expression and to read what he was thinking, what he would do.

When she'd concluded that he was interested in what she apparently had to tell him, she slowly turned around and gestured him to follow.

Jimmy remained still for another second, but then walked after her.

_Well, that's dandy, _he laughed at himself. _If anyone from Downton saw me now… _He looked around nervously, hoping that no one he knew was watching – no doubt that would bring all sorts of mockery upon him! It wasn't how he'd imagine his day at the fair to go, but he concluded that it'll probably only take a few minutes with the woman and then he'll be off, devoting his time to more interesting matters. _Maybe I can at least ask her if we'll win at the game later…_

He followed the woman to a small, rather plain-looking red tent at the sidelines, slightly away from the other ones. The curtain over the entrance was pulled back just enough so that he could see a dim amber light inside, illuminating the darkness.

He entered and was instantly struck by the strong smell of incense. Everything that made the tent look rather humdrum on the outside was made up for by the interior. It was still rather dark, but bright enough that he could see a colourful abundance of silks and different fabrics hanging around, in red, orange and lilac shades, embroidered with various patterns and decorated with tassels. There was a small round table in the middle, on it a thick red table cloth and a single large candle that was casting a light on the place.

Jimmy approached the woman who'd already sat down by the table on a chair opposite the one clearly meant for Jimmy.

"How much?" he asked in a tone of indifference.

She looked at him and smiled in an amicable manner.

"That's alright," she replied. "Future is free – only lies have a price."

He furrowed his brow. He didn't understand – but it didn't matter. If it was free, all the better.

She nodded for him to take a seat across from her. He stepped closer hesitantly and sat down, the incense already making him dizzy.

He couldn't help but take another look around the small space he'd found himself in. He'd heard stories about gypsy travellers before; he'd even seen a group of them once when he was a boy. He remembered their colourful outfits, wagons and tents, and above all their music, so exotic-sounding to his ear. He'd snuck out one night to the plain by the forest where they'd set up their camp. He'd watch them dance and sing by the fire. There was something about their free spirit that intrigued him, a sense of adventure-

"I'll need a personal object," the woman's cordial voice announced and brought Jimmy back from being immersed in nostalgic memories.

"Anything will do, so long as it belongs to you and has some meaning."

"A personal object?" Jimmy raised his eyebrows. "Didn't you just touch my hand earlier and… _saw_ something?"

She nodded once. "I did."

"Well, can't you just do that again?"

"I can only see bits of your soul that way," she proceeded to explain, her eyes glistening like embers in the dim light. "The mind obstructs much, but the things we carry close to our hearts – they capture fragments of our souls; unmarred and clear."

Jimmy pondered for a moment, deciding whether he was satisfied with her answer. Then he slowly reached inside his pockets, unsure if he even had a "personal object" on him that the gypsy could use.

He remembered it the very moment he felt it under his fingers; his father's pocket watch. He fished out the little silver thing, dangling on its thin chain. The mechanism was broken, but the watch was still in decent shape. He always carried it around, when he wasn't working of course. He liked to keep it close. Jimmy inherited it from his father after the man had been killed in the war. It was real silver, likely worth a decent sum. In fact, it was probably the most valuable object that he owned.

The woman observed the watch and gave him a little nod, tapping on the table. "Put it here."

He hesitated, looking at the watch once again and then carefully placing it in the middle between them.

The gypsy reached out with one hand and wrapped her long thin fingers around it, Jimmy distrustfully observing her three shiny rings as she did.

The woman closed her eyes, as if trying to focus on the object under her palms.

There was a pause. A rather uncomfortable silence, at least for Jimmy. His eyes wandered from her face to her hands, to the candle, then all around the tent and back to her.

"So, do I-" Jimmy began to ask, but she interrupted him as he spoke.

"You seek love above all," she began slowly and melodically, lost in her own world it seemed. "But love has already found you." Her voice sounded hopeful.

_Seems a pretty basic statement, _Jimmy disregarded the words that were uttered. _Who _isn't_ looking for love?_

"But the time ticks away," the woman continued, more ominously now.

Jimmy would be amused at her performance if the words didn't unsettle him somewhat. He shifted in his chair and straightened himself.

The gypsy's fingers wrapped themselves around the watch tighter. After another, shorter moment of silence she spoke again in a voice that rang in its deep and solemn tone.

"Blood of love will lift the veil, and when your dozen moons have passed, you'll be ready to step through the looking glass."

She went on, her eyes moving vigorously under her eyelids as if she were asleep.

"You'll be given back the time, and when you cross to the unknown, you'll find your soul more there, than it was ever here before."

Jimmy found himself sink into the moment, sink into her poetically recited words; as easily as one drifts into dreams. And just before you fall asleep, there's that kick, that feeling that you're falling, that rouses you. The same thing happened to him: before he could dive completely into her words, he found himself awake and in need of answers.

"'Scuse me?" he asked, as baffled as ever, not entirely sure if she could even hear him in her current state.

The woman's eyes flew open dramatically, two deep hazel wells that seemed to be staring right into his very being.

"Your mind is putting up a fight, but your heart is yearning since that night."

Jimmy darted up from his chair at those words, his eyes wide, chest heaving and nostrils flaring – all in a sudden burst of emotions that appeared a mixture of anger, fear and bewilderment.

His immediate reaction apparently brought the woman back to a normal state. Her fingers relaxed their grip on the little silver watch and her hands dropped down by her sides. Her eyes focused back on Jimmy, and her expression was plain, with a slight upward twitch of the muscles in the corners of her mouth, as if she were pleased with her prophecy – Jimmy certainly wasn't. She blinked a couple of times, her eyes still large and mysterious looking, but normal, compared to the mere seconds before when they seemed absolutely alien.

Jimmy stared at her for another moment, looking at her fiercely as if she just told him that she had murdered someone he loved or something similar. He turned around without saying a word and paced away, forgetting completely about his pocket watch.

He burst out of the tent, throwing open the crimson curtain in a furious motion. The sun almost blinded him after the long minutes he'd spent in that poorly lit place, but he didn't let that for one second impede his determination to leave.

His mind was foggy. He saw nothing and no one as he marched away, not really caring where – just away. His steps were long and angry, his fists clutched at his sides, lips tight and his jaw clenched in a defying way, like that of a child who had just been scolded.

This was the strangest experience he'd ever had. His mind was stretching to its limits at an attempt to decipher and make sense of the gypsy's words.

_It was all a scheme! A set up scheme! Must've been! There's no other explanation! People don't just fall in a trance like that, say words like that!_

His rational side was looking for logical answers. He could find none, so instead he opted for convincing himself that what he'd just experienced was a sham.

_But she didn't even take any money, what use was it to tell me a bunch of lies? What did she gain from that? _He'd forgotten that she was in fact left with his watch, be that her plan all along or a coincidence.

_Your heart is yearning since that night…_ This was the part that made him restless. He felt exposed; as if some hidden depth of his had been lurking in those words and was now bared. But truthfully, if anything had been bared, it had been to no one but to Jimmy. Couldn't he have just pretended that it didn't matter, that the woman was wrong? _I could've just laughed, I _should_ have just laughed at her, tell her she was babblin' nonsense!_

He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Why was he so upset about it?! He wanted to scream; to scream his lungs out, let everybody hear it! It was as if his fears were boiling right underneath the surface and he had to make sure they never saw the light of day – but at the same time, he knew that keeping them at bay would never kill _them_; it would only kill _him _overtime.

_Your mind is putting up a fight, but your heart is yearning since that night. _The woman's words were pressed into his mind with a branding iron – and they burned just the same. The defiant fire overtook him once again.

_I'm not yearning for anything! Especially from _that_ night! This is stupid! _Jimmy had an interpretation, a specific night in mind, but this damn right wouldn't be it! _Twelve moons ago… so that's a year then… did that happen a year- ugh, to hell with all this, _he grunted, fairly sure that he actually made an audible sound of disapproval.

Why was his mind set on twisting everything to fit _that_ moment?! It could have been anything! So many things happened a year ago! And the rest of it was stupid too: _Blood of love, the looking glass, my soul… my soul's right here is where it is-_

"Ouch!" he let out a small groan as he bumped into someone.

"Careful."

Jimmy looked up and gawked in surprise. "Thomas? What are you doing here?"

Thomas replied in his signature sarcastic but not ill-meaning tone that sounded more like a question that a statement: "Looking for you?"

_Right! Idiot, of course they're looking for me!_

"The question is what are _you_ doing?" Thomas went on. "You were the one who suggested that we sign up for the game, and then you disappear right before it's about to start."

"Well yeah, I was just on my way now, wasn't I?"

Jimmy was still annoyed at the gypsy woman's words, and though he didn't have the intention of telling anyone what had happened, he also didn't bother to conceal his emotions which were very evident through his surly tone of voice.

Thomas stared at him for a moment, cautiously trying to read him. Jimmy knew what he was about to ask, and he didn't have either the time or the will to talk about it.

"Well, come on, let's go then," he urged Thomas and shot him a look of assertiveness.

Thomas said nothing and they hurried towards a crowd of people gathered around the two teams of men who were waiting to start the tug of war.

_Just forget those stupid rhymes and focus on the bloody game now, _Jimmy kept repeating to himself as he and the black-haired man made their way through the crowd.

Alfred noticed them first and approached Jimmy, an expression if disapproval across his face.

"Where've you been?" he began to ask, but Jimmy quickly cut him off.

"Not now, let's just do this!"


	2. The Time Ticks Away

_Oh, must you really have another one, you silly lad?_

Thomas observed from afar as the blonde man started downing yet another pint of beer. Compared to earlier in the day Jimmy was now in a much better mood – winning the tug of war combined with a few drinks made sure to lift his spirits.

Thomas took a drag of his cigarette and readjusted his stance by the wall he was leaning against. As happy it made him to see Jimmy's smiling face, he still wondered what made him so terribly agitated before.

When he found him, pacing angrily around, Jimmy seemed pretty much as distraught as he was that night when he chased Thomas out of his room all that time ago – perhaps slightly more distraught, if that was even possible. Thomas knew that there was no point in asking what happened, because even if they were on friendly terms Jimmy wouldn't tell him. He knew him well enough to realise that.

He took another long drag and slowly exhaled a thick cloud of smoke that swirled before him.

Regardless of how miserable the situation between him and Jimmy made him feel, Thomas noticed a peculiar thing about it. It was exactly _because_ their friendship had crumbled to no more than an acquaintance of two people who work in the same house, that Thomas began feeling as if he were given a chance to get to know other aspects of Jimmy; the ones that were easier spotted from a distance at which he was being held as of late.

Thomas could never really take his eyes of off Jimmy; not since the day he walked through that door and lit up the room with his smile and Thomas first looked into those mischievous blue-green eyes, and then Jimmy spoke the first words to him in that seductive low voice of his…

And now, Thomas held back his glances at Jimmy. He tried to respect Jimmy's uneasiness around him, tried not to be so drawn to him all the time.

But he was. And he observed him still, because most of the time it was a subconscious impulse that he couldn't control. He had to be subtle about it, but ironically Jimmy's avoiding and ignoring Thomas as much as he could provided cover – Jimmy was less likely to notice him doing it, though admittedly much angrier about it if, on occasion, he did.

When they were still close Thomas didn't feel rushed or limited at his attempts to unveil that interesting man; that man who was so much more than people credited him with. He savoured those moments when Jimmy would let him in, even if it was slow and gradual.

Thomas saw things about Jimmy that eluded most people at Downton. He was more than a vain pretty face. Jimmy was passionate and ambitious and despite his tendency towards overconfidence, his heart was in the right place.

Now that he was constantly being pushed away, Thomas held onto every straw; and he learned to not only observe, but to study Jimmy to a point where he had never bothered to study anyone else.

Months ago when they would still talk as friends, Thomas would gradually get to uncover Jimmy's mind, see how he thinks – but now that words were scarce, he got to learn something that felt much more intimate; how Jimmy actually feels.

It wasn't about the outwardly expressed emotions – those were superficial in comparison – but by being cast out to the sidelines, Thomas discovered that he could in fact see bits of Jimmy's personality which he wasn't paying as much attention to when he was relying on verbal communication. Bits that most of the time even Jimmy probably wasn't aware he was showing.

Sometimes Jimmy's most minute changes of facial expression and the slight shifts of emotion behind his eyes were enough to let Thomas know how he should react or treat Jimmy in a particular situation so that he didn't make matters worse. He was beginning to come close to anticipating Jimmy's behaviour, he could tell when he was annoyed, irritated, disinterested, when he wanted to be left alone; not only when he was sulking – that was an obvious clue that everyone could read, apart from Alfred who would typically be oblivious until Jimmy snapped back at him.

But Thomas learned to read the clues that formed much before the straightforward reaction; it's was all written in Jimmy's eyes, in his posture, in the way his jaw would tense and his lips would tighten. It was minimal, but for Thomas it was important; it was like Jimmy was a beautiful puzzle and even though he could never own all the pieces, he cherished the ones that he was given.

And now he was once again quietly and covertly observing Jimmy from a distance – that man who became his weakness. The man whom he was not supposed to love; it felt ironic. Thomas didn't like many people but that one person whose affection he craved with all his heart he could not have. He'd come to terms with this; however it did nothing to alter his feelings. He knew he would remain loyal to Jimmy no matter how much the man hurt him or pushed him away. He would care for Jimmy even if Jimmy couldn't care less for him.

Thomas made himself believe that what he was currently doing was simply keeping an eye on the man, especially since the he was getting excessively drunk, as his inability to walk without swaying either to the left or to the right indicated. This was indeed one of the reasons, but it wasn't the only one or the main one for that matter. The main reason was much less noble.

Thomas couldn't help himself; despite everything they've been through, despite knowing that he should keep his distance. He loved that silly flirt more and more every day, regardless of Jimmy's recurring attempts to insult, push away or hurt Thomas. Despite the fact that Jimmy practically refused to talk to him unless it was absolutely necessary. Despite the fact that since the kiss Jimmy always looked at him in that soul-crushing ice-cold manner.

It didn't matter. None of it. He would watch Jimmy at Downton every day; carrying trays, waiting on table, polishing shoes, playing cards, smoking, drinking his tea. He would glance at him for no longer than a second, but it gave him an inner sense of peace to do this. There was nothing that Jimmy needed from him, but Thomas was always ready to give him everything.

_You're a fool,_ he thought to himself, knowing how ridiculous and weak he was being, chasing something he could never have.

But he wasn't chasing it – not anymore. Truthfully, he just wanted to be close to Jimmy. To talk to him again, like he used to. To have Jimmy look at him in any other way than how he was looking at him these days.

That was all Thomas wanted now, but assuming that his wish was ever granted he didn't know whether it would truly be enough then. Would he be happy with that, or would he recklessly begin to once again interpret Jimmy's kindness as love? Would he always want more? Would being friends with a kind Jimmy be worse than being friends with this cold Jimmy? Would everything eventually come right back to the start – to him longing for Jimmy's unrequited love?

Considering everything, perhaps it was better that things should remain as they were now; Jimmy distant and indifferent, and Thomas helplessly caught between wishing that he could just disappear from his life and relieve him of the pain, and wanting to ever pull Jimmy closer.

It made him scoff that he should find himself in such an undignified position, but he didn't mind. Not really. Under any different circumstances he would have, but not when Jimmy was in question. For him Thomas was prepared to feel stupid and weak, and silly; he was willing to be all these things for Jimmy Kent, and perhaps he was. Only – he wished this were never required of him in the first place.

"Oh, the love that has found him," an excitable voice spoke and brought Thomas back from his thoughts.

He looked to his left to notice a short gypsy woman in a long, colourful and somewhat tattered dress, smelling strongly of incense. She was looking up at him and smiling.

"'Scuse me, were you talking to me?" the black-haired man asked in confusion.

"Oh, I do think so," she replied, her large eyes framed by dark thick eyebrows innocently looking at him for a second longer. Then she turned her attention over to the crowd in the distance in front of them both, where Jimmy was singing with a group of some men that appeared to match him in both merriness and drunkenness.

_Is she looking at him?_ Thomas thought, observing the woman's eyes which were clearly looking towards those men, but her face gave nothing away. It did however look slightly more concerned as the smile faded away.

"A thorny road awaits you," she said now, her gaze remaining unchanged. "But I believe his heart is ready to open up."

"Wha-" Thomas began asking, feeling completely caught off guard. Is this something he was supposed to understand?

"Whose heart?" he uttered, bewildered.

The woman turned back to him and offered him another one of those confusingly cordial smiles.

It made Thomas feel unsettled. _Why so nice,_ he thought, pondering what her real motives could have been. _Have I met this woman before?_

"Perhaps it'd be best _you_ returned it to him," the gypsy spoke now, reaching for Thomas's hand.

He took a step back, but she held his wrist – not forcefully, but firmly. Opening his palm with one hand, she placed something round into it with her other hand.

"He'll be wanting it back," she added with an innocent and benevolent look in her eyes.

Thomas looked down at his hand. There was a small silver watch resting in his palm and he took a closer look at it. It seemed oddly familiar.

_Is this- but it can't be…_

A memory burst into his mind. A memory from over a year ago, of Jimmy showing him a little silver pocket watch which looked dangerously similar to the one that was resting in his hand now. That watch had belonged to Jimmy's father, he told Thomas. It was a lovely little thing but the mechanism was broken and Thomas offered to fix it, though in the end he never got around to doing it because of that stupid-

But this couldn't be the same watch... Where would that woman get Jimmy's watch? He would never sell it, he loved it!

He continued to look at the item in his palm, waiting for the hands to move, waiting to hear those quiet little ticks.

Nothing. This one was broken too. Thomas knew that Jimmy's watch had a crest-shaped hallmark engraved in the back. He turned the thing around and his face must have taken on a dumbfounded expression as his fingers traced the almost faded lines of a small emblem in the centre.

Thomas rapidly looked up so that he would ask the woman how on earth she came to have Jimmy's watch – but she was gone.

He looked around, turning his head hastily in every direction, looking for her in the crowd. _She was just there, how did she-_

And then his eyes spotted Jimmy who was standing left of the carousel, next to Daisy and Ivy, and Thomas instantly forgot about the peculiar woman.

They were too far for Thomas to be able to see exactly what was happening over there, but Jimmy appeared to be giving the girls some money and then he tipsily stumbled away, bumping his shoulder into another man.

_Damn it love, you've really had too much,_ Thomas assessed, wishing that he could get Jimmy away from the crowd, and most importantly away from the alcohol.

Thomas was afraid that the blonde man would head back for the drinks, which to his despair, he did. He grabbed another pint, downing the beer as if he hadn't been drinking all day. Then he made his way in the other direction, heading to the periphery of the fair and somewhere towards the small forest nearby.

Thomas instinctively moved to go after him, but then stopped in his tracks.

_Idiot, stop following him everywhere, maybe he's just going to relive himself,_ he tried to reason with himself, but to no avail. Jimmy was a magnet and Thomas's feet were iron, and they had no choice but to follow.

He carefully stowed the watch in his pocket and tapped it gently, and then he headed after Jimmy who'd just walked across a small wooden bridge.

_There. We'll give you back to Jimmy when he's sober again,_ he thought to himself, addressing the watch. _So that he doesn't lose you again, or pawn you or whatever he did that got you in the hands of that woman._ He still felt uneasy when he thought of her. A peculiar woman, no mistake.

_The love that has found him,_ she said. Something about a thorny road and hearts… What was that about? Did she suspect something if she saw Thomas looking at him? _But she couldn't possibly know I was looking at Jimmy, there was a whole crowd…_ Did she know that he knew Jimmy? She did give him the watch so that he would return it...

_Well either way, Jimmy will be glad to have you back- but perhaps I can finally get to fixing you before I-_

Thomas suddenly spotted two men, walking towards the same overpass where Jimmy was headed, only from the opposite direction. It was the two chaps who were their opponents in the tug of war.

Thomas picked up his pace, feeling that them running into each other had a potential to spark a problem or two.


	3. The Unknown

"Here, have one on me lads," Jimmy declared and pulled out a thick wad of money from his pocket, proudly waving a few bills in the air.

The men gathered around him gave a loud cheer, some of them raising their jugs, others helping themselves to another one which their generous comrade was paying for, and some patting him on the shoulder in a friendly spirit.

Jimmy grinned, his ego boosted to soaring heights. He was drunk not only from the alcohol but also from that deceitful sense of achievement that was induced by the drink. Having won, he felt like he was the one in control today; he had money and he could spend it as he pleased, be as generous or as stingy as he chose, and people gathered around him, giving him praise and attention which he certainly wouldn't refuse.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it was all only a temporary, that it wouldn't last and that there was nothing honest about it.

But that didn't matter now. Tomorrow things would go back to how they were; to the same old mundane, boring routine at the big house; Mr Carson would order him around, he would serve lunch or dinner to the Cralweys, polish some silver, wind a clock or two, maybe have the mandatory little daily quarrel with Alfred, and so the days would go by.

But today he would enjoy the day as he had intended all along, he wouldn't mind about being proper, and he would drink to his success with anyone who would join him in his celebration.

Jimmy took a look around to see if anyone from Downton was nearby – after all, those men were the most deserving to be raising a glass to the day, but of course they weren't here because they were all stuck-ups.

_Those ninnies can't hold their drink down, _Jimmy thought and laughed.

Right after their victory, they'd had maybe a pint each and then they dispersed. Perhaps Mr Branson and Alfred and Thomas were really all either too weak or too proper to keep up with Jimmy's drinking skills, but he was expecting at least Mr Tufton to be a man who knew how to have a good time.

But even though he found them to be spoilsports, Jimmy suddenly felt a deep love for all of them, no doubt brought about by the excess of drinks he'd had.

_Eh, so what if they're a bit snobbish? We won! I should give 'em all a hug! _

Smiling widely and feeling warm from the alcohol running through his veins, overwhelmed by the happiness and the idea of loving the entire world, he raised the jug and brought it up to his lips.

_Hug, ha! I could bloody well kiss 'em right now, I love those blokes!_

It was the briefest, passing thought. He didn't mean anything impertinent, nothing scandalous, naturally. _Kiss 'em as palls_ – even thought that probably wasn't a thing. It was simply how Jimmy's gratitude towards these men who played a part in their joint success had manifested.

He didn't _really_ want to kiss them, not all of them at least... He snickered at the idea. He envisioned himself placing a smooch on Alfred's baffled and outraged face. He grimaced, but he did find it amusing._That would make for a good laugh!_

On the other hand though, Thomas would probably be happy if Jimmy kissed him.

His expressing changed into something like awe. His mind continued to drift off into some strange place and a new image came to form itself. One of Jimmy himself leaning in – actually, he'd probably have to step on his toes, Thomas was taller – and leaving a kiss on Thomas's cheek.

Jimmy pictured the man's face and smiled; Thomas's cheekbones always looked sharp, but that ivory skin seemed like it would be soft and smooth to the touch…

The reckless, carefree smile on Jimmy's face faded instantaneously and was replaced by a tension that shrouded his face. His whole body tensed in fact, and unsettling shivers ran down his spine. He felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured on him.

That half-dazed state he was in due to the liquor dissolved all at once. He felt fully alert, aware of his surroundings and of himself. The taste of beer in his mouth suddenly turned bitter and unappetizing, and only at this bizarre fantasy did Jimmy begin to recognise just how drunk he must have been in that moment.

But then there was another realisation prompted by the thought of Thomas.

_Oh, shit!_

Jimmy almost swore aloud._ The watch! I forgot the damned watch!_

'Drinks for the new champions,' they'd said and pushed beverages into their hands after they'd won the game – of course he drank; it would be impolite to turn down a drink. He drank and laughed and drank some more and the priorities simply faded away. There was only cheering and joy, and basking in them was more pleasant than thinking about serious matters and things that needed to be done. Even though getting his watch back wasn't a chore, it required him to get his act together.

Jimmy rubbed his forehead, looking around, trying to focus and to remember where the gypsy's tent was. After he'd assumed with a vague certainty that he's got the right direction, he began marching there.

On his way, he caught glimpse of two familiar figures by the stalls. It was Daisy and Ivy, standing by one of the stands with the toss-a-ring game, looking somewhat displeased about something.

"What's the matter?" he asked as he approached them.

"I want a go, but Daisy thinks it's too expensive," Ivy explained.

That vain drunken feeling suddenly rushed over Jimmy; he noticed an opportunity. He felt like he could be a hero, like he could 'save two damsels in distress' with his money.

"Oh, have one on me," he said in a happy-go-lucky manner, pulling out the wad from his pocket. "Here, one go for each of them," he said and paid the man at the stall.

Daisy muttered something about Jimmy being drunk, but he wasn't paying attention. She should be grateful that he was being so generous instead of complaining!

"Why thank you, Jimmy, how kind of you," he said ironically in response, the words he believed he should have heard coming out of her mouth.

"It is kind," Ivy replied and smiled appreciatively. "Thanks very much."

Daisy frowned, her eyes fixed on the pounds in Jimmy's hands. "Don't flash your money about!"

"It's my money, won fair and square. I'll do whatever I want with it," the man replied rebelliously, then turning to walk away.

_Another spoilsport, _he thought, rolling his eyes._ She thinks she knows better! 'Stead of thanking me- ow!_

He bumped into a man.

_Ugh, you should watch where you're going, _he thought and gave the stranger a disapproving look, not really considering the possibility that it could have been his fault.

Jimmy passed by a table of drinks but wandered right back because he'd decided to have just one more. A man shouldn't waste a good drink on a day when he's allowed his freedom! It was a day to have fun, and tomorrow he'll go back to being the serious old Jimmy again and-

_Oh, the watch_ _with my gyps- hah, no wait er… the gypsy with my watch. Right- _he remembered, having been briefly distracted from his objective by the girls and the alcohol.

_Right- but first – I need to take a leak,_ he realised and made his way towards a small forest by the periphery of the fair.

_Craving since that night… _The damned words barged into Jimmy's mind again as he was walking. _Craving that stupid friendship back, maybe. Nothing else, _he attempted to convince himself. A storm of thoughts began brewing in his mind as he walked.

_But that doesn't mean I was the one who messed it all up – _he_ kissed me in my bloody sleep, didn't he! It was because of that foolish thing that I could never- And then Alfred- Well it's all done with now, I was so mean to him so I might as well push him away completely because we'll never be able to- We couldn't anyway- He'll never believe me if I tell him that I panicked and that I really wanted-_

Jimmy's own feelings began to scare him. There was a peculiar desire, lurking somewhere in the depths of his heart, an unwholesome one, weakened by constant repression, but one that would never be defeated, Jimmy began to concede.

He didn't know what he wanted until he almost had it. He didn't know that a man – a man – could come along and make him question everything he thought he knew. Make him not trust his feelings, make him a prisoner of his own mind.

He crossed a small wooden footbridge and then turned right, staggering towards under a larger stone bridge.

He saw a man approaching him, but his eyes and his mind couldn't focus properly, failing to notice the unfriendly expression on the stranger's face. Only – it wasn't a stranger, Jimmy learned as the man came closer. It was one of the men from that other team-

A hand landed heavily and forcefully on Jimmy's chest, stopping him in his tracks, making him stagger back.

"Where d' you think you're going?" the man spoke angrily, and as he threateningly approached him, Jimmy backed away. He heard footsteps form behind him.


	4. Blood of Love

Chapter Text

_"And you said to wind it every week then?"_

_"That's right," Thomas replied and smirked. "Next time you go ahead and offer to do it even before Mr Carson reminds you, impress him."_

_Jimmy returned the smile and Thomas noticed how his face caught the light from the large window of the staircase._

_He let his eyes linger on Jimmy for a second longer. He was so beautiful; always, but especially when he smiled. This man who'd just recently walked into their lives but lit them up – Thomas's life at least._

_He only knew him for a short while, but he felt something inside him stirred that hadn't been stirred for quite some time. It had been a while since Thomas liked someone in the way that he liked Jimmy. He knew all along that it was foolish, but he didn't let himself be bothered by it because it was his reason to smile; his reason to get out of bed in the morning and walk down to breakfast where he knew he would see that bright young face, those mischievous eyes and those golden locks. _

_The pair made their way back to the servants' staircase._

_"Mr Barrow," Jimmy spoke, his voice sincere. "Thank you for helping me with this. Truly."_

_The corners of Thomas's lips lifted upwards. He looked away, rushing to conceal some of his indiscreet emotions. _

_"Well, I did say you could come to me if you ever needed help with anything…"_

_Jimmy shook his head, laughing at himself. "And look at me - I went and straight off took your word for it." _

_They both smiled, finding themselves caught in a moment which felt dangerously too comfortable to Thomas. _

_"I don't know how I'd manage otherwise," the blonde man continued in a quieter and more serious tone. He looked down, breaking eye contact. "It was foolish of me telling Mr Carson I knew how to do it when I didn't – but I couldn't have him think I wasn't up to the task…"_

_In his words Thomas recognized an emotion which he too was familiar with: pride. Ambition as well, perhaps. It made him feel a connection between them, and he was honoured that Jimmy trusted him enough to share some of his more insecure thoughts._

_He opened the door for him and they entered, but stopped at the landing leading down to the servant's hall._

_"You're a clever lad," Thomas said. "You're a quick learner and you're willing." He lowered his voice even though they were alone. "But you _do_ want to stay in Mr Carson's favour. He greatly values honesty, but he likes competence too."_

_Jimmy furrowed his brow, slightly puzzled. "So what are you saying?" _

_Thomas smiled and placed his hand on the other man's shoulder. He noticed Jimmy's eyes glancing briefly at the motion, and he immediately thought that he should be more discreet about touching this man at any convenient moment that presents itself – but those little touches meant the world to Thomas, and he could hardly resist._

_He looked at Jimmy reassuringly. "Accept the challenge, but don't lie to him," he replied and gave him a little smirk. "Even if you do have the confidence to get away with it."_

_Their eyes met and something roused in Thomas. It had seemed, for a moment, that there was something- a possibility, a hope that perhaps-_

_But no. He brushed the thought away. It wouldn't be wise to try read into this because it would be like chasing the wind. It already was, so he had to keep his eyes open at the very least._

Thomas was slowly coming back to his senses. He was a bit disoriented and his head was pounding. The more aware of his senses he was becoming, the more parts of his body he found were aching.

He hadn't completely lost consciousness; he was vaguely mindful of where he was and that he had drifted off into a memory.

It almost felt as if the line between that half-unconscious state and being fully awake got blurred and they somehow melded into one for a few minutes or however long he was in that state.

It was a pleasant memory, much nicer than the reality. It was of the first time he'd seen Jimmy's insecure, vulnerable side; admitting to Thomas that he didn't want to be seen as incompetent in front of his new boss. Jimmy didn't have to share this, but he felt comfortable enough around Thomas that he trusted him.

Thomas was beyond thankful for moments like this, yet it was a double-edged sword. Every time Jimmy did something that made Thomas feel closer to him, it was like rubbing salt on open wounds. He valued their friendship, but the closer they got the harder it was not to imagine that there could be something more.

He pressed against the ground and shifted a bit. God, _everything_ hurt! He could taste the blood in his mouth as he licked his lower lip, aware that it was busted. His chest and torso felt sore and full of bruises and he wagered that at least a rib or two must have been broken.

He tried to imagine what his face probably looked like. His cheekbones hurt like hell, and even though he was bleeding from his nose, he considered himself lucky because it was most likely not broken.

_Jimmy,_ he thought. It could have been his face in this state, and Thomas smiled, glad that this wasn't the case – but then he immediately thought of the other possibility with dread. _God, they better hadn't caught up with him after they'd finished with me…_

Thomas knew that he couldn't take on both of them; one maybe, but the moment he saw them, he knew it was over before it began.

He didn't actually think Jimmy would get in trouble, but since he did what other choice did Thomas have but to step in? He couldn't let him get into a fight with those men – not with anyone. Jimmy wasn't meant for such things – at least not if Thomas had any say in it.

He shifted again and grimaced, feeling a dull full pain slash through his whole body.

A small part of him was perhaps hoping that Jimmy would stay; maybe together they would stand a chance – but Jimmy was drunk anyway so even if he could throw punches, his state would make them weaker and less accurate. Besides, his beautiful face wasn't worth getting all beaten up.

No, Thomas truly did want him to run away. There was no point in both of them getting in trouble, getting into a fight and emerging either victorious or the poor beaten-up bastards.

It would probably be worse if they'd both fought them – perhaps even worse if they'd won the scuffle. Who knew what those two could have done afterwards if their pride were hurt, where they'd go and who they'd complain to… One way or the other, this was better.

_You're an idiot,_ Thomas thought to himself and laughed, even though it hurt. _You have to stop standing up for that man. He keeps getting you in trouble._

It was ironic. When Thomas was around him it almost seemed like he could be a better person. But this better person was more reckless, doing things on impulse instead of using their brain. Everything to do with Jimmy was an instinct – that's why it was so impossible to control.

Thomas felt like he'd gotten in more trouble for Jimmy over the last year of knowing him than he ever did before on his own – or rather, he _did_ get in trouble on his own too, but he knew how to dig his way out. Everything regarding Jimmy Kent was like an impulsive reaction, but all the while stumbling in the dark. He didn't think things through; he just did them – for Jimmy, because of Jimmy.

Even if this was something damaging to Thomas, nothing could ever be as damaging to him as seeing Jimmy getting hurt; whether it was mentally or physically.

It was an unspoken, subconscious vow that he made to himself; to look after Jimmy as best as he could, as best as the circumstances allowed him. It was an obligation, because even if Thomas wasn't allowed to love Jimmy in the way that he did, he would continue to love him on Jimmy's terms; for better or for worse.

Leaned with his back against the cold, damp wall of the bridge, he attempted to lift himself up a bit. He managed to sit slightly more upright, but he let out a low groan and his face was twisted with pain.

Half-sat up, he rummaged through his pockets. He had a vague memory that those bastards had gone through them after they'd got tired of throwing punches.

Thomas swore under his breath. There was nothing. His pockets were empty.

_Of course, what else! _Every single penny he had on him was gone. They'd taken everything they could get their greedy hands on!

Then it hit him.

_The watch! Jimmy's watch!_

He desperately dug through his pockets once again, turning them inside out, but knowing that it was to no avail – and a feeling of helplessness and disappointment washed over him.

He cursed again. _Those bloody bastards!_

The watch was also gone.

Thomas closed his eyes and turned his head to the side, pressing his cheek lightly against the cold stone. It felt good against his sore bruises.

Sod the money and the beatings, but why did they have to take the watch!

It was more than just Jimmy's watch – it was Thomas's excuse to go and talk to the man, to return the item to him and maybe put a stitch in their relationship – it was a deep wound that needed to be stitched, but every single stitch counted.

And now the chance was gone. He had no watch and no excuses, and he was all beaten up, lying here like a puddle of misery.

Perhaps this was for the best. Perhaps it was a sign. A sign to let go.

Using every opportunity to get closer again to Jimmy was just another excuse to feed Thomas's obsession. It was unhealthy. Maybe he was no longer helplessly pining over the man, but he certainly wasn't ready to let go.

But being close to Jimmy would just make the pain worse. Thomas pretended to wonder about this sometimes, but in truth he knew that this is exactly how things would end up.

Perhaps this situation was exactly what he needed. It would sober him up.

If he had that damned watch he would return it to Jimmy and the man would thank him for no reason other than out of common courtesy, but Thomas would hold onto that moment like it were a lifeboat, making himself believe that their relationship was healing.

Deep down he knew that he would never let go until Jimmy was far away; not only miles, but years. Maybe he didn't try hard enough to let go. Maybe he should have been more unwavering in his decisions. Their friendship was an illusion. The desire to get it back was an even bigger one.

He sat there, wondering how he was going to get up and walk back to the fair. Jimmy must have gone for help. He disliked Thomas, but he wouldn't be so cruel as to leave him here.

A flash of light reflected into his eyes. He blinked, trying to force his eyes to focus. It was lying in the dust, just a stone's throw away from where he was sitting.

With great effort, he moved closer, stretching out his hand – damn, was there a part of his body that _didn't_ hurt like hell? – and reaching for it.

He clutched it in his palm and brought it closer. His lips stretched into a blissful smile and he breathed a sigh of relief.

How did they miss it? Did they drop it or did it fall out of his pocket while they were beating him up?

Whatever the case, it was really here, they didn't get to it!

It was in a terrible state; all dusty and the glass was cracked, probably as a consequence of hitting the ground, but it didn't matter. They didn't get it. The most important thing that Thomas had on him was safely clutched in his hand.

He lifted his arm, bringing it closer to himself and put the watch in his pocket, resting a hand over it.

"Over here, Dr Clarkson, hurry, please!"

It was a familiar voice and Thomas heard footsteps approaching from the distance.


	5. The Lifted Veil

Jimmy was slowly making his way up the stairs. His mind was so full of everything he wanted, of everything he _had_ to say, that it felt like it could explode.

He'd been feeling strange ever since they returned, but not just because of the incident. It was like a culmination of everything – of how mad he was at Thomas before, but then suddenly he felt terribly bad for him, and he was angry at himself for being the reason why the other man was in this situation; why they were both in this position…

Jimmy didn't know anymore where and when it started or who was actually to blame. Regardless, he blamed them both; himself for being so mean to Thomas, and Thomas for putting him in this position in the first place.

_Yes, but you chose to act that way towards him, he didn't force you into that! And now look; he's got himself beaten up for you, you careless idiot!_

The thought made him extremely uncomfortable; humble, grateful, yes. But also very undeserving.

Beaten up _for him_… ultimately, that's what it was, wasn't it? Thomas didn't hesitate for one second to protect Jimmy, to basically take his place – but there was only one question – why?

Jimmy had his suspicions, naturally, however he refused to make up his own truth. He needed to _know_, and it was exactly this question that had convinced his legs to move and head upstairs to talk to the man.

He reached the landing and slowly walked over to the door of Thomas's bedroom, raised his hand to knock – but then he paused.

It was rare that Jimmy lacked confidence, but here he was, feeling completely lost and unsure of himself. There was so much that he wanted to say, but somehow the words seemed to dissolve whenever he tried to utter them.

_This is it. This is it, just go already! _

He took a deep breath and exhaled, but didn't move.

_But what will they think if they see you sneaking around here?!_

It was his worst nightmare; that people would start assuming things if they saw him here, being all friendly with Thomas again. It was the driving force behind his rudeness towards the other man. It was nothing other than fear.

He had just now realised that – truly realised it – and he felt silly because of it.

It was nothing to be ashamed of, and it wasn't 'sneaking'! So what if he was in Thomas's bedroom? Anna and Mrs Hughes came by before too, brought him food and checked how he was doing. Even Mrs Crawley stayed with Dr Clarkson while he was tending to Thomas.

This wasn't anything inappropriate; it was an act of a concerned friend-

Friend… was that what Jimmy was to him? After how he'd behaved he was no friend, just a bloody coward! _You had to 've run off, hadn't you!_

Well, he wouldn't be running away today. Thomas deserved this; he deserved an apology, and in fact, he deserved a bit more-

Jimmy's hand finally yielded; he knocked and slowly pushed the door open.

His eyes briefly met Thomas's; the black-haired man was sitting in bed with a newspaper, looking at his visitor with a surprised expression.

Jimmy stepped in and was taken aback too. _Oh, god, they really didn't hold back, _he thought, compassionately observing Thomas's face.

"Jimmy," Thomas spoke quietly and put the newspaper on the nightstand. "What are you doing up here?"

He was looking back at him with those sad eyes which Jimmy knew all too well, but as of late he refused to look at them because he felt ashamed whenever he did.

He had seen Thomas right after the incident, but he thought that maybe after his wounds where cleaned and the blood was wiped off, he would no longer look so poorly. Thomas did look significantly better than the state he was in when they found him, but still far from well. He was covered in scrapes and bruises; his nose, cheekbone, lip, around his eye. Jimmy felt an aching pang of guilt in his stomach.

_Shit, why didn't you stay with him, you bloody coward, _he scolded himself in his mind.

He carefully and quietly closed the door behind himself and took a step closer.

"Just wanted to make sure there wasn't too much harm done.

Thomas smiled sadly and tried to sound casual. "Well, there was enough harm done."

Jimmy looked at the ground as he continued.

"What you did today, Mr Barrow… you were brave," he began in a low voice, unable to make eye contact. "And me, I- I shouldn't have run off."

"No, you should have," Thomas insisted and straightened himself up a bit, grimacing from pain as he did. "Otherwise what was I bloody doing it for?"

There was a short pause. Jimmy looked away and swallowed anxiously, preparing himself to stir the conversation in the direction of the question which bothered and interested him the most.

"Were you following me?"

Thomas smiled benevolently, though it was a bit forced. "I saw you had a bit to drink, so … I like to keep an eye out…"

He stopped. His expression changed as he realised that there was no way of turning this around. He looked Jimmy in the eye with a hint of shame.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, I did follow you."

Jimmy forced himself to maintain the eye contact as he awaited the answer.

"Why?"

It was hardly intentional, but to Jimmy Thomas's voice was sounded like a whisper of a lover. "You know why."

The blonde man looked away again hastily and pressed his lips together. A feeling that was an odd mixture of fear and relief washed over him. He looked around, and reached for a chair and then sat down by Thomas's bed. The room was shrouded in silence once again.

_You know why_ – if three words ever meant so much… it was a dangerous glimmer of hope. It meant that perhaps it wasn't all lost.

Jimmy was certain that Thomas had grown to hate him because of how he'd been treating him since that night – but if he didn't, if he still felt something…

Obviously, Jimmy was no fool. He was aware that Thomas wasn't completely apathetic to him – he did try to be friendly and it was Jimmy who had been exerting all his efforts to fortify the wall between them. It was a contradiction even to him; he didn't want to, but something in him was driving him to do it. But the blonde man did think that at least any feelings Thomas had for him of… _that _sort had since then disappeared.

Yet those three words that came out of Thomas's mouth gave Jimmy an unusual overwhelming sense of joy. Perhaps it could still be fixed, and _Jimmy_ was the one who had to do it now.

_But how do I- do I even truly want to? _

He tried to say something but he felt a tightness in his throat, so instead of speaking his eyes fell on Thomas's injured cheekbone.

A thought of something that he'd been thinking about at the fair crossed Jimmy's mind. He was drunk when he was pondering it, but he remembered it so vividly. It wasn't just a drunken thought – it was something he still wanted.

He hastily crushed a sudden urge to caress Thomas's cheek and he straightened himself up in his chair, breathing out a long heavy breath.

"Thomas, I-"

"I'm sorry," the other man cut in. "I know that I've been making you uncomfortable lately, Jimmy. And I'm truly very sorry about that, but please – know that I meant no harm by it."

Jimmy shook his head in confusion and leaned in closer. "No, Tho- Mr Barrow, that's not what I was- I want to _thank_ you."

A tiny spark lit up in Thomas's eyes and shone through the sadness, even if only ever so slightly.

"I know you didn't mean any harm, and _I_ should be the one apologising to you," Jimmy continued and his head dropped down in shame. "And not just for running off at the fair. I mean for everything…"

His mind trailed off. Everything. It was a big word. If he was really going to apologise for _everything_ then he might end up in a place where he didn't want to be. He knew it existed, this place, but it was untrodden, unfamiliar. Jimmy wasn't ready to risk going there. Not yet.

He looked at Thomas looking at him; that honest, authentic, unguarded expression on his face – it was strangely comforting to Jimmy. He hadn't looked at the man's face properly for so long that he'd almost forgotten about that feeling.

He remembered how he'd glanced at Thomas one time and noticed it – the first time he felt that comfort, that calmness, a familiarity. And now it was like rediscovering something that was once lost.

It emboldened Jimmy somehow to maybe dip a toe into that unknown.

He shook his head disapprovingly at himself. "I can't believe the things I'd done to you," His eyes found Thomas's. "I didn't mean them, you know – I didn't. Not like that!"

There was pause. Thomas stared at him unblinkingly, not revealing what he thought about his words.

Jimmy exhaled before he went on, anxiously rubbing his hands up and down his thighs. He felt like he would lose his words again if he didn't utter them now. _There's no better time, no better situation-_

"But I wouldn't have to, if you hadn't showed up in my room that night and bloody kissed me in my sleep."

The words blurted out of Jimmy's mouth so suddenly, so unexpectedly – the tone he'd said them in was a mixture of cynical, accusative and humours; as if he couldn't decide what he wanted them to mean. Not even Jimmy himself expected them. He wasn't sure where they'd come from, but he also couldn't remember what he was actually going to say instead of what he did.

Thomas's face darkened and he looked down sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Jimmy. You know I regret it, and I apologised for that before. I thought-"

"Well you ruined it, didn't you," Jimmy instantly cut him off, sounding somehow both angry and remorseful. His words were targeted at Thomas, but it was unclear who his emotions were aimed towards.

A confused expression replaced Thomas's apologetic one and he furrowed his brow; not in anger, but rather in bewilderment.

"I thought _you_ were apologising here?"

"Yes, but-" Jimmy now looked just as lost as Thomas as he leaned in a bit closer again. He was finally looking him in the eye again. "-but you ruined everything! We could have just been friends! But then you go and do that stupid thing and I- and then Alfred barged in and-"

Jimmy's fists were tightly clenched on his thighs, his face revealing a defiant expression. Thomas couldn't read it, not properly. It looked as if there were a battle raging inside of Jimmy, but he couldn't discern what it was about.

The black-haired man sighed. "I know, it was daft," he replied quietly and nodded. "I don't know why I did it… I thought that maybe you felt the same-"

"Well if I did, what good would kissing me in my sleep do!?"

It was almost a shout. The words that came out of Jimmy's throat filled the room and caused both men to fall silent, partly because they were listening if anyone had heard them and was coming to see what all the fuss was about – and partly because they'd realized that Jimmy's hand was resting over Thomas's.

Jimmy thought of moving it, but he didn't. He also didn't lean away, even though he was awkwardly close to Thomas. The tone of his voice instantly changed from accusatory to soft and apologetic.

"I- I wanted… Thomas, I wanted us to be friends after that too, but I didn't know how… I didn't know how we could be friends again…"

"Well, you could have just been nice to me," Thomas said dryly.

A corner of Jimmy's mouth lifted into a quick little half-smirk, but the other man remained serious, so Jimmy's smile faded as quickly as it appeared.

"You're right. I should have," the blonde man nodded, breaking eye contact again. "But I was a coward. Like I was at the fair… I wanted to run away from it. I was afraid that if I was too nice to you they'd think I was…"

He didn't finish the sentence, but Thomas didn't need him too. He knew what Jimmy meant. He gave him a compassionate look.

"I understand, but why would you be afraid of that? You don't-" his voice cracked. "You don't feel that way."

There was a short moment of silence between them, but for some reason it felt important. The time slowed down and there was a tension in the air; it seemed as if it was a defining moment for something.

Thomas's eyes found Jimmy's and the blonde man was caught off guard, unprepared for this stare. He tried to recognize what Thomas was searching for. For a moment, he thought that maybe he was looking for Jimmy to reaffirm those words or to deny them – but then maybe it took too long for Jimmy's eyes to reply, and he realized that Thomas's pursuit of whatever he was looking for turned into a sad and quiet resignation.

The moment was gone, and Jimmy's response was a whisper.

"Right…"

He removed his hand from Thomas's, still feeling the warmth of it under his own palm. _What are you doing?! Say something, do something, don't-_

"Th- Mr Barrow," he began slowly. "If you still want to be friends, then I… I think I'm ready to be nice again."

Thomas raised an eyebrow in question. "You think?" he teased him, an insecure ghost of that familiar smirk stretching across his face.

Jimmy couldn't help but genuinely smile at this. "No, I- I mean it, Mr Barrow," He asserted. "I _do_ want us to be friends again. That is, if _you'd_ be find with that."

He knew what Thomas would reply, but there was a little voice of doubt in him, shouting that maybe things between them _were_ in fact too far gone.

"I'd like that very much," Thomas said, a gratefulness beaming from his eyes.

Jimmy's face lit up in response as Thomas's mouth stretched into a wide smile; that real, happy grin that Jimmy hadn't seen in a very long time. He never knew how much he missed it.


	6. The Love Which Has Found Him

A couple of weeks had gone by and Thomas was slowly recovering. His wounds were healing nicely and he was beginning to feel more like himself again. He was back on his feet, gradually resuming his under-butler duties and almost everything in the house ran pretty much as smoothly as it did before. _Almost_ everything.

As joyous as the birth of Lady Mary's son was, the death of Mr Crawley was a shocking counterweight to that, and it impacted the mood of everyone, including the downstairs.

But in spite of this, Thomas couldn't help but feel a general happiness for most of the time. There was a fire in him, unsurprisingly rekindled by Jimmy; by nothing more than those simple words of "I want to be your friend again."

Thomas was in an especially good mood today. It was his half-day and he had some plans; he had the afternoon off since there would only be three for dinner – Lady Edith was in London and Lady Mary didn't come down for meals these days.

After lunch was served and finished, Thomas went upstairs to his bedroom and got dressed. He was going to the village to run some errands of his own, as well as some that other members of the household asked him to do.

It was a lovely late summer's day, fairly warm and nearly cloudless. As he was walking down the field road, he used the time to reflect. He did generally love to be alone with his thoughts.

He was thinking how silly it was - that as a smile from the right person can make you feel so overjoyed. God he missed those moments! To have them returned to him was an indescribable feeling.

Thomas was surprised at himself that he didn't feel that dreaded insatiability – that he would never be content with Jimmy's friendship alone. But he was, at least for now, and he was glad of that. His mind and his heart did after all manage to respect the situation.

But to be Thomas and to let your guard down were to different things. He was living in constant self-suppression – he had to, after all, for obvious reasons. In the past he thought that perhaps, ironically, his confined desire was growing stronger because he was constantly thinking about it. He had to continually keep himself under scrutiny – whether he had a reason for doing so or not – because if he carelessly forgot about it and let his feelings rule his mind, he would surely cross another line at some point or another. That wasn't an option.

The village was not far away from Downtn, but by the time Thomas arrived there the weather began changing; some clouds had gathered in the sky and it got a bit colder.

He made sure to first get the errands out of the way; he went to post some letters that had been given to him by Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson, then at Mrs Patmore's request he stopped by their supplier and passed on a message, and he went to pick up some bits and bobs that Anna needed for mending Lady Mary's clothes.

There might have been a time when he would roll his eyes and think: "Why can't you do it yourself if you need something done?" But because Thomas was so content himself, he didn't feel bitter or badgered by those requests. It worked in both ways - if he was down, he made sure to do his best to bring others down with him. When he was happy, he was a nicer person, he noticed. Not that that was surprising at all, but it was just how Thomas functioned. It was just something in him that involuntarily spread his own mood to others, for better or for worse.

When he was done with everything it was finally time for him to focus on his own errand. He walked to the corner of the other street to a clock shop.

The little bell above the door rang as he entered, and a strong woody scent and a smell of wood polish enveloped him. There were clocks of all shapes and sizes hung on the walls, three large masterfully crafted grandfather clocks on Thomas's left, and there was an array of smaller watches and clocks by the display window, all rather quietly but insistently ticking out of tune with one another, ticking over each other.

"Hello?"

"Be with you in a moment, how can I help?" an elderly mustached shopkeeper asked from behind the counter. He was tinkering with something on the shelves and his back was turned against Thomas; he only briefly glanced at the customer who had just walked in.

"I was here a few days ago," Thomas began and took off his hat, twirling it in his hands. "Brought in a small pocket watch that needed-"

"A replacement glass, ah yes," the man finished his sentence as he turned his attention to Thomas and recognised his face. "Yes, I remember you now. A peculiar thing that watch of yours. An older design, but very nice…"

The man seemed to have a passion about clocks – something Thomas normally had nothing against – but at the moment he was a bit impatient and all he wanted was to see Jimmy's watch. He gave the man a look of curious anticipation and the shopkeeper recognized what it meant.

"Hmm, yes, the little silver one," he said and Thomas nodded once.

The man went into the back room where he did the repairs to fetch the watch, and just as Thomas took another quick look around the place, the shopkeeper returned. He placed the item on the counter for his customer to look at.

"Here she is, good as new," the man proudly announced. "But are sure you don't want the mechanism fixed too? Little good a watch that doesn't show the time," he noted. "Wouldn't take long and wouldn't cost ya much either…"

Thomas plastered a polite smile on his face and stopped the man's offer. "Thank you, but I think can manage that myself."

It wasn't about the money – or at least not _just_ about the money. He didn't have the glass to replace the broken one, but Thomas had the knowledge, the wheels and springs and all other parts he needed to fix it, so why not? He _wanted_ to do it. _He_ wanted to do it. It wasn't about the end result. Pouring his time and energy into the work was Thomas's way of showing how much he cared.

The shopkeeper raised his eyebrows a bit doubtfully, but he shrugged and charged him for the glass replacement.

Thomas paid, thanked the man, pocketed the watch and exited the shop. As he stepped outside a cold breeze surprised him.

The weather seemed to be getting worse and there was a high chance that a storm was on the horizon. The grey blanket of clouds was thickening and Thomas found it best not to waste a minute more. He promptly headed back to Downton.

As he was making his way along the narrow road towards the mansion, a thought brought a smile to his face; a thought of Jimmy's surprised but hopefully happy face when he would return the watch to him.

Thomas still wasn't sure how the watch ended up in the hands of that odd gypsy woman at the fair, but he was certain that Jimmy didn't just hand it to her or pawn it. He cherished it too much for that.

_"__Not much I've left from my parents," _Jimmy had told him once as they were walking home from the village, down the same road Thomas was walking now. It had been their day off and they'd spent the majority of it together, laughing and teasing and simply being friends. Thomas remembered that day so very fondly.

_"'__Cept this," Jimmy added and reached in his pocket. He pulled out a little watch. "Got it from me dad."_

_Thomas carefully took the pocket watch in his hands and gave it a look._

_"__That's a lovely piece, Jimmy," he said and smiled, a sparkle in his eyes. "Great craftsmanship." He ran his finger over the embossed hallmark on the back. _

_Jimmy returned a content smile. "Real silver that is," he proudly proclaimed. "Dad left it to me after he was killed in the war…"_

_"__But-" Thomas began, noticing something strange. "Your watch, it- it doesn't-"_

_"__Doesn't work, yeah," Jimmy admitted with an innocent smile. "It's broken. It's never worked, not since I've had it… Don't know what exactly 's wrong – you know how I am with clocks."_

_There was a short pause as they walked along a few steps._

_"__What was he like?" Thomas asked and looked at Jimmy with genuine curiosity as they walked along._

_"__Me dad?"_

_The black haired man nodded and the left corner of Jimmy's lips darted upwards in amusement._

_"Oh, he was quite a strict man… kind of like Mr Carson in many ways."_

_They both smiled and Jimmy went on._

_"__But he just wanted the best for me, I s'ppose. He could be supportive, and he was smart… could amount to much more if he had the means to do it."_

_Thomas nodded pensively. It wasn't uncommon for the working class folk to share that struggle._

_"__My sister's a lot like that," the black haired man stated. "Clever, disciplined. Ever since we were children we both loved reading. Mum encouraged it, but our father said it was a waste of time," he shrugged, appearing nonchalant about it but his words contradicted that. "Emily's diligent, smart – but she's a working class woman and it's not likely that she'll ever be more than a maid. In any case, she's fine with that but I always thought it was a shame…"_

_Jimmy pondered on his words for a bit._

_"__Sounds a lot like you, your sister," he commented. "Hard working, but trapped in a system that doesn't allow her to realise her full potential." He gave him a little smug smile. "Only - you might be _slightly_ more ambitious, I think."_

_Thomas's eyes looked upwards to find Jimmy's. He was surprised and found it fascinating that this man noticed so much about him. Thomas didn't think Jimmy cared enough to spot such things, but he was glad that he was mistaken. _

_"__You think it's vain?" he asked and shifted his gaze towards the road ahead. "To think you've unexplored potential?" _

_Jimmy shrugged. "Maybe. Sometimes," he replied and looked back at Thomas. "But not in your case."_

_His words sounded genuine and honest. Thomas's expression mirrored the already upward turned corners of Jimmy's mouth._

_He held out the watch for the blonde man to take back, and his fingers twitched as came in brief contact with Jimmy's._

_"__Perhaps if you'd like, I could have a look at it someday," Thomas said, gesturing at the watch. His expression became slightly more mischievous. "You know how _I_ am with clocks."_

_Their eyes met again, only for a second. Jimmy smiled briefly but instantly looked away, almost embarrassed of being so familiar with Thomas, even if they were alone._

_"__I'd like that very much, Mr Barrow."_

Suddenly, Thomas felt a little raindrop on his cheek. He looked up and another one fell on his forehead.

"Oh, no," he murmured.

It appeared that he wouldn't be able to outrun the storm. He quickened his pace, but it took no time for the light drizzle to turn into heavy rain.

At this point Thomas found himself too far away from the village to go back. He considered waiting it out under a tree, but the manor was only a couple of minutes away now, so he decided to simply hurry forward.

He was aware that he would have to run – a decision he quickly came to regret. His straining caused the pain from his injuries to return. He felt it mostly in his chest and under his cracked-now-healing rib where he'd been hit repeatedly in the same spot. It ached more and more as the muscles and flesh around that sore area moved with every step he took. Thomas felt ridiculously weak, even though he had a perfectly valid reason for it.

After a while he was finally approaching the gates of the back entrance to the manor. He was quite worn out, a throbbing pain in and around his most prominent injuries determined to impede his progress – not to mention that at this point he was also soaked to the skin.

He couldn't see clearly with all the pouring rain, but he noticed a figure leaning against the wall under the roof, a cloud of cigarette smoke swirling around it.

As the figure spotted and identified Thomas, it ran towards him.

"Thomas!"

He first recognised the voice and that familiar face, shaped by blonde yet already completely wet hair.

"Mr Barrow?" Jimmy asked incredulously and offered Thomas to lean on him.  
"Didn't expect to get caught in the rain today," the black-haired man laughed at his own unpreparedness as they staggered, awkwardly but as fast as they could, under the roof where it was dry.

"Why didn't you wait in the village in some pub?" Jimmy asked as he attempted to wipe his face dry with his sleeve. "And why were you running? You're not well enough for that yet," he insisted, an expression of concern drawn across his face.

"Not like I had much choice, I was already on my way," Thomas shrugged and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. He grimaced as a wave of pain slashed through him.

Jimmy leaned forward, his hand landing on Thomas's shoulder and concern etched across his face. "Are you alright? Should I call for Dr Clarkson?"

"No, Jimmy, leave it," Thomas calmly assured him, well aware of the hand on his shoulder. "Honestly, I'm fine," he replied, making sure to look Jimmy in the eye to make a clear point.

He couldn't help but smile a little as he observed Jimmy's face - he was touched that the blonde man worried so much about him, but he really didn't need a doctor – just a bit of rest.

Jimmy removed his hand, and after assessing Thomas for another moment he leaned against the wall beside him. "Alright then," he agreed and his lips stretched into a smirk. "But you owe me a cigarette, you know. Just barely lit that one and I already had to throw it away to get you out of the rain."

Thomas grinned and shook his head. Their eyes locked as they smiled.

_Maybe between that and the fair we can call it even,_ Thomas wanted to say, but even though he only meant it as a tease, he suspected that Jimmy was still feeling guilty about that event – and the last thing he wanted to do was upset him.

Jimmy broke into a laugh and Thomas gave him an odd look.

"What is it?"

"Your hair!"

The blonde man smiled, amusedly observing a few loose strands that were falling over Thomas's eyes. "I've never seen you looking such a mess, Mr Barrow." His tone sounded coy in a way.

It had been an eternity since Thomas last saw Jimmy smile so unreservedly in his presence, so sincerely and unguardedly.

"Oh, and you think yours looks any better?" Thomas teased back, but ran a hand through his own hair anyway, combing it back.

Jimmy's white teeth made an appearance again. "No, it's even worse now."

He took a step forward, unobtrusively entering Thomas's personal space.

_Step back, that's too close! _The thought passed Thomas's mind only briefly, but his body didn't listen. He didn't move an inch – in fact, he was pretty sure that he may have even leaned in slightly.

It all happened in a mere few seconds, but time slowed down.

Thomas's pulse quickened and he was certain it would be loud enough for Jimmy to hear if it weren't for the sound of the rain. He stood completely still, getting lost in his puzzling thoughts and in Jimmy's eyes. He didn't dare make a move; he didn't dare do anything that would potentially go misunderstood.

Jimmy instinctively raised his hand to fix Thomas's hairdo – but just as the tips of his fingers brushed against that black hair the odd intimacy of the moment seemed to dawn on him.

He froze in place, his expression turning serious. His fingers curled into a fist and he pulled his hand away, letting it stiffly rest down against his side.

"Sorry," he mumbled and looked away, on his face an expression of horror which stemmed from the realisation that what he was about to do would be considered terribly improper if anyone was to see them.

His voice was a whisper. "I wasn't…"

But he didn't finish the sentence. The heavy rain washed away his words and it washed away the moment.

It left Thomas feeling confused once again. He thought he knew Jimmy – what he felt, what he wanted – but he was also certain that what happened between them just now was motivated by a feeling shared between _the both_ of them-

_But Jimmy doesn't feel that way, he let you know a million times!_

He didn't dare to read the cues anymore, because he felt like he was illiterate when it came to Jimmy. He thought that he was getting to know him better, but the reality seemed to be the exact opposite. There was something to Jimmy that remained locked away, maybe even from Jimmy himself. Thomas suspected what it could be, as he had done once before, but he was wrong then and he couldn't possibly make the very same mistake again-

"I better go inside," Thomas said abruptly, letting his thoughts wither away.

"Yeah," Jimmy nodded absentmindedly. "Me too."

Without any other word they went in and headed upstairs to the servants' bedrooms; each to their own room to change.

Thomas lazily and still pensively got out of his wet clothes and hung them on a chair by the fireplace, putting dry ones on. Then he took the watch out of his trouser pocket and set it on his desk.

He pulled a chair closer and sat down, drying his hair with a towel, dishevelling it even more. He heard Mr Carson's voice in the hallway, calling for Jimmy. It was dinner time and they were getting ready to serve.

Thomas turned on the little table lamp and opened the drawer, shuffling some bits and bobs around in search of his tools, as well as some coils and cogs which matched the ones he needed to replace in Jimmy's watch. When he finally found everything he was looking for he began tinkering with the pocket watch.

The memory from earlier kept intruding his mind. Jimmy's face, so close to his own; his hand almost in his hair; his eyes – maybe he was imagining that part – landing for a split second on Thomas's lips…

He closed his eyes and exhaled a deep yearning-full breath.

It couldn't have been right! It couldn't have been that! Jimmy had made his point loud and clear! And yet – he didn't have to be _that_ nice to make it up for how he behaved towards Thomas in the past…

It threatened to undermine their barely patched-up friendship. Thomas wondered whether he should mention it to Jimmy, say something – but he loved those moments so much that he couldn't bring himself to purposely stop them.

Just as his heart was ready to surrender the fight, just as he had finally convinced himself to accept that there would be nothing else but friendship, Jimmy did something that made him rethink everything. It was like being trapped in an endless loop, never free of those feelings because the second you finally decide to give them up, they get rekindled.

_Don't overthink it! Just be grateful for what you have. It's more than you deserve..._

He pushed the thoughts away and continued working on the watch, trying to turn his mind off, only focusing on the quiet sound of raindrops falling on the windowsill. The storm was slowly coming to an end, and by the time Thomas was done with his work the raining had almost completely stopped.

A gentle ticking sound now broke through the silence and Thomas smiled, pleased with his work. He checked it again against his alarm clock on the bedside table to make sure that he set the time correctly. Lastly he reached for a handkerchief and made sure to polish the watch until it gleamed as if it were brand new.

He observed the brass numbers and the matching hands. It was pretty late; dinner was over so Jimmy would most likely already be in his room.

Thomas had bad experience with going to Jimmy's room at night, so he decided that returning it to him in the morning would be a wiser choice.


	7. Given Back The Time

Jimmy Kent was not the type of man who would dwell on something for too long or try to find hidden meanings and read into things. He liked to live in the moment; he loved the thrill of action and to experience the world with his five senses – by dancing to music and playing an instrument himself, by tasting good food and drinks, by exploring, by learning by doing… He preferred a direct, engaged approach when it came to experiencing the world around him.

But Jimmy's body was a traitorous thing these days, and his mind was unreliable, constantly diving in some odd, unknown depths. It felt like jumping down the rabbit hole. He couldn't rely on what he was experiencing; like yesterday, when something in him so casually brought him into that situation with Thomas – it made no sense, and yet it was the most comfortable and genuine thing he felt in a long time.

It didn't feel as wrong as it should. It felt right, in fact – all of it. All laughs and stolen glances, all the way until that one specific moment when Jimmy snapped out of it and hastily tugged back with all his strength and willpower to crush whatever was between them, and more importantly - whatever could follow.

It was because he was aware that it was wrong – or would be if he were to trust his instincts all the way. It simply wasn't how a man was supposed to act with another man! It was too familiar, too close. Too intimate.

Ultimately, Jimmy was certain that it wouldn't have been half as unsettling if there weren't for- something. That something which was always burning in him, no matter if it was buried under feet upon feet of gravel and soil, feet upon feet of Jimmy's own restrictions. That something that probably made Thomas believe that there was more between them and drove him to decide on that reckless kiss…

If your own feelings become entangled in a web of misdirection, then you're not only unable to trust yourself, but you also aren't able to communicate to others what you truly want.

'Wants' and 'have-tos' were not always supposed to be the same thing. Often, they couldn't be the same thing. Jimmy learned that in his youth and it continued to prove right as he grew older.

He wanted to be as rich as the Lords and Ladies he was serving, but he had to recognise the fact that he wasn't born under a lucky star. He wanted to travel the world and uncover its wonders, but he had to accept that he would have to work for decades before he could even dare to dream of affording a lavish lifestyle like that. As bold as he felt admitting it even to himself, he wanted to be close to Thomas, closer even, much closer- but what he had to be was…

A man.

A man who marries a lass, settles down and raises a family – not yet, certainly not yet – but one day. A man who doesn't yield to flimsy emotions and loses his head over some ridiculous improper, scandalous, illegal desire - if that's even what that was. Jimmy wasn't even sure of it.

His emotions didn't show on the outside – at least he thought they didn't – but Jimmy felt like a bottle of champagne; the pressure rising inside him, everything ready to burst out and fizz up when you pop the bottle. There was an anticipation in him, a yearning; as if he was waiting for something to happen, for somebody to shake him up and let him breathe at last. Unlike normally, in this case he needed someone to nudge him because he not only didn't know how to do it, but he was certain that couldn't do it on his own.

His mind briefly rewound to the gypsy at the fair. Yearning since that night. Of all the words that were spoken during their encounter, those continued to stick to him like resin. Everything that happened that day made the ground beneath his feet unstable.

Still, as much as that 'prophecy' bothered him, and as bitter as he was when he realised that his watch had been stolen, the overpowering emotion that afternoon was simply relief that Thomas was alright. It was all that mattered – all that truly mattered. One of the few things Jimmy was certain of was that he couldn't live with himself if something happened to Thomas – especially if it were because of him.

He wouldn't be mean towards Thomas in the past if he hadn't been afraid of his own emotions. The problem was that he could hardly control them.

Control. He had a love-hate relationship with it. Jimmy normally enjoyed being free in his expression and actions, but in this one particular case he couldn't tighten the restrains on himself hard enough. He needed to control… that.

But he was also terribly confused. He didn't know what he wanted. On the one hand he enjoyed their friendship and wanted things to stay like this; in a safe place forever. But the other side was pulling him into a darker, more dangerous, perhaps even more enticing place where his heart skipped a beat when Thomas told him that he still loved him.

It shouldn't mean anything – it should even make him mad – but it gave him hope instead.

Jimmy looked towards the window and squinted at the morning light filling the room. He reluctantly got out of bed and started getting dressed, his mind persistently filled with a thousand thoughts which he couldn't disperse.

He washed his face, brushed his teeth, put on his trousers and a fresh white shirt and combed his hair. He reached in the drawer and shuffled things around absentmindedly, looking for pomade-

"Ow!" he hissed and pulled his hand away immediately.

Staring back at him were two thin, narrow slits on his index and middle finger, out of which oozed little drops of blood.

Jimmy slowly reached into the drawer with his other hand, carefully feeling the contents of it – and then he felt under his fingers the blade of a razor which he apparently hadn't folded back into the handle.

"Well that's just dandy!"

He scoffed angrily under his breath and scanned his room in search of whatever he could use to wrap around his bleeding fingers. He found a fresh handkerchief and though reluctantly, he picked it up and pressed over his hand, wrapping it around a couple of times, not bothering to tie it.

A knock on the door startled him.

_Bloody hell, what now?!_

"Yes?" he asked politely, trying to not let any of his agitation seep through and reveal itself in his tone.

"It's me," a muffled voice spoke. "May I come in?"

Recognising Thomas, Jimmy instinctively straightened himself, brushed his clothes with his uninjured hand, making sure that he looked proper and well put together, even though he was not yet fully dressed and had a handkerchief awkwardly wrapped around his bleeding fingers.

"Ah… sure," he hesitantly replied when he was at least somewhat pleased with his brashly fixed appearance. He made sure to position his left hand so that it was half-hidden behind his leg.

The door opened and Thomas stepped in.

"I brought you something," he recited, sounding excited, not even taking a proper look at the man in front of him yet.

He stopped in his place after two steps, probably not wishing to intrude in Jimmy's personal space. But then he realised that the vest of Jimmy's livery was lying on the bed and his eyes spotted the untied bow tie loosely hanging around the blonde man's neck.

"Sorry, if this is a bad time, I thought you'd be rea-"

He noticed Jimmy's bandaged hand and instinctively took a step closer, concern cloaking his face. "Jimmy, what happened?"

Jimmy put on a casual smile, trying to sound nonchalant.

"It's alright…" _Just leave, Thomas, please!_ "Been a bit clumsy, 's all…"

There was an awkward pause between them. Thomas observed Jimmy and the blonde man looked around and back at his feet.

"Um… yes, well… just have to get that wretched thing-" Jimmy began.

He fumbled with the bow tie one-handedly but couldn't make his fingers do what they were supposed to. The three other uninjured fingers of his left hand were holding the handkerchief in place so that it wouldn't untie; they were of no use. He gave up and burst into an awkward laugh, shaking his head.

Thomas scanned Jimmy head to toe and pondered something for a moment, appearing torn between two ideas.

"Well, would you want me to-" he finally uttered and gestured towards Jimmy's undone bow tie. "So that you don't get any blood on it – if you don't mind," he suggested, though uncharacteristically insecure.

"Oh," Jimmy breathed out, realising what he was offering. "I'm- well… if you- I mean-"

He exhaled a shaky breath and let go of the bow tie, letting his hands rest by his sides; a stance which was supposed show that he was accepting Thomas's offer. He nodded once, trying to look at the man in front of him, but avoiding eye contact.

"Alright then."

Thomas mirrored Jimmy's small nod and moved to close the door behind him.

It creaked, but closed almost without a sound. Thomas took a few steps forward and stopped, his chest mere inches away from Jimmy's. An odd silence pervaded the thick air between them.

Jimmy's mind was becoming hazy and nearly unable to focus. The time felt like it was slowing down. As if they were trapped in an aura of their own, their own little bubble that didn't obey the laws of time and space.

Jimmy felt his heartbeat quickening. Don't stand so close, he thought faintly. His head wanted to lean in, wanted to rest on those broad shoulders- He fought the urge, straightening himself to stand as still as a statue.

Thomas raised his hands in a cautious motion, as if he were performing a delicate procedure and couldn't allow his moves to be too sudden, too reckless. His hands reached for the bow tie and began tying it; as they did, his fingers gently brushed against Jimmy's neck.

Jimmy felt shivers at the touch and his face going hotter. His heart was throbbing in his chest, the vein in his neck pulsating. He was certain his whole body was shaking and he tried to steady his breath without making it obvious. _It's only Thomas, it's fine! It's nothing!_ He couldn't look up so he directed his gaze over Thomas's shoulder, fixed on the door.

"You trying to copy me, then?" Thomas commented to ease the tension between them and looked up for a moment with a half-smirk.

Jimmy didn't register it immediately because he was so focused on controlling himself, but then the reference to Thomas's war injury caught on and he let out a soft laugh.

"Could be worse," he said dryly. "I could've decided to copy Mr Bates."

He lifted his gaze – only for a second. Thomas was grinning, his lips stretched widely and white teeth gleaming brightly in the dim light of the room. His eyes were framed by small wrinkles, but there was a sparkle in them that made them so prominent; so alive.

Jimmy loved seeing Thomas laugh, and he loved it even more if he was the reason for it – but this guilty pleasure sent waves of fear through his body.

The black-haired man was standing so close to him that another sense of Jimmy's awoke. He closed his eyes to focus on it. It wasn't any scent in particular, just… Thomas. It was the smell of his skin mixed with the scent of pomade in his hair, with a touch of aftershave and the crisp smell of his starched shirt. It all intertwined into a harmony so painfully familiar to Jimmy. It was so distinct, so irreplaceable, that for a fragment of a second Jimmy felt a possessiveness which surprised him.

"You, um," the other man breathed as he was making the knot, his voice quiet and rather unsteady. "You might want to get a linen bandage from the cupboard downstairs," he suggested.

Jimmy nodded absentmindedly and even though he resisted looking at Thomas's face, he had to take another brief look. The man's jaw was set, his expression focused, but it almost looked pained somehow.

Jimmy's glance briefly brushed over Thomas's lips when he looked down again.

_I'm sorry,_ he thought, with no specific thing in mind. He was just sorry for… many things.

Thomas finished his work, removed his hands and stepped back – and Jimmy felt like somebody had punched him in the stomach; it was a regret, a defiance over the fact that the moment was over - he craved to prolong it, though he wasn't sure what was so great about it other than-

Silence fell between them again, but this time it wasn't filled with rising expectation, just with hollowed emptiness.

"Thanks," Jimmy muttered. He meant it, but he was dazed over the loss of the moment between them. "You, um… you said you had something for me?" he remembered.

The other man's face suddenly lit up. "Right, yes!" Thomas reached in his pocket. "I thought you might miss it," he said and pulled out a small silver watch.

Jimmy's eyes widened and he hastily reached for it.

"Is that-" he gawked, and Thomas nodded, a pleased but still somewhat reserved expression drawn across his face.

"But how did you- where did you find it?"

He couldn't hide the surprise or the excitement, but then he noticed that the hands on the watch were moving, accompanied by a quiet ticking sound.

"Thomas! Did you fix it?"

His smile unfading, the black-haired man nodded again, raising his eyebrows mischievously. "Thought I'd take the liberty – I did promise you I'd take a look."

"Thomas…" Jimmy was lost for words and he didn't think that what he was about to say could ever suffice in conveying how he truly felt. "Thank you."

Thomas's lips curled into that very genuine, benevolent smile that seemed like it was reserved only for Jimmy.

"But I don't understand-," Jimmy shook his head and furrowed his brow. "Where did you get it? I thought I'd lost it-"

"-at the fair." Thomas completed the sentence, an undertone of question in his statement.

Jimmy looked up into Thomas's eyes. It became clear to him now that he apparently knew something more.

"Yes," he quietly replied with insecurity threaded through his voice.

As much as Jimmy didn't want to talk about it, he felt he owed Thomas at least some part of an explanation. He decided to test the ground for how much the other man knew.

"How did you find it?"

There was a woman at the fair," Thomas began. "A gypsy fortune teller, it seemed."

Jimmy listened, eyes wide, uneasiness in him growing.

"She walked up to me and just… gave it to me," Thomas continued and shook his head as if he were questioning the validity of his own words. "I recognized it was yours and…" He chose to shorten the story. "Well, the rest is history."

Jimmy felt a lump in his throat.

"Did you know her?" he asked.

Thomas shook his head. "No. I thought maybe you did, since she had your watch."

"No, of course I didn't, I-"

_So that damned woman gave my watch to a stranger?!_ Jimmy thought. He contemplated if there was any way to tell this without coming clean about the entirety of his peculiar adventure at the fair.

"But why did she give it to you?"

"I don't know," Thomas said earnestly, looking Jimmy in the eye. He paused, pondering for a moment whether he should say what he was going to, or if it was simply too strange. "She told me to 'return it to him'".

There was a pause and only the quiet ticks of the watch echoed across the room.

"But that doesn't-" Jimmy tried to gather his thoughts. "-that makes no sense…" _Who is 'he'? Did she mean _me_? How could she have known Thomas and I knew each other and that he'd give it back to _me_?_

Thomas took a step closer. "Jimmy, maybe she saw us at the fair together? Saw you losing the watch and-"

"But I didn't lose it," Jimmy quietly but sternly admitted, looking down at the watch in his hands.

_Don't tell him, he'll laugh at you,_ he thought, instinctively mindful and protective of his own pride – but something about Thomas's concerned, caring look made Jimmy comfortable enough around him. It wasn't like there was another way.

"I'd seen the gypsy earlier that day…" he continued, persistently looking down. "She walked up to me and said she'd tell me my fortunes and she needed my watch to do that and… I forgot it in her tent. I was certain she'd pocketed it and ran away with it."

He still didn't understand why she tried to return the watch. She could sell it and get a nice sum for it.

There was a pause; Thomas appeared to be thinking and Jimmy felt a joke.

"Well, go on then, have a laugh," Jimmy said cynically, much to Thomas's puzzlement. "A grown man havin' his fortunes read at a fair," he scornfully elaborated his thoughts, scoffing at himself.

"I won't laugh," Thomas spoke calmly, giving Jimmy a sincere look and reaching for his shoulder – but he changed his mind halfway and pulled his hand back.

"If you thought I'd ever laugh at you, you don't know me well, James Kent. You can trust me. No need to draw a veil over this - or anything. Honest."

Jimmy's smile came involuntarily, but in the same moment a strange sensation ran through his body as he remembered something.

"So is that why you were so upset?" Thomas went on. "Did she tell- Jimmy?"

Jimmy made a step back; his legs failed him and he plopped down on the bed.

_Draw a veil… blood of love will lift the veil-_ "Jimmy?" _… twelve moons… craving since that night…_\- "Jimmy, what's wrong?" _… when you're given back the time… step through…_ "Jimmy, talk to me!"_… love has already found you… step through the looking glass… given back the time- _

"JIMMY!"

Thomas's hands, resting on his shoulders, brought Jimmy back from the confusing place where his mind had wandered. Saturated with everything he'd heard at the fair, his thoughts at long last began making some crazy sense. It was anything but credible, but it was an explanation nonetheless.

"You…" Jimmy managed to utter, his frightened eyes looking directly in Thomas's. His throat felt dry and his words like they weren't his own. He looked to his left hand, resting by his side, clutching the pocket watch and continued looking at it even as he addressed Thomas. "You gave me back… the time."

The black-haired man gave Jimmy a concerned look, both of them disregarding the fact that he was keeling in front of Jimmy, his hands still resting on Jimmy's shoulders.

"You could say that," he replied, sounding detached and only focused on the blonde man's face, trying to discern whether he was truly alright now.

"Thomas, we need to talk," Jimmy said with a sense of great urgency.

The other man nodded, removing his hands. "Alright, sure. But now's really not the time," he tried to reason with him. "We have to get downstairs, they'll send a search party if we don't show up soon."

"Alright, but soon," Jimmy insisted. "May I-"

He felt his face going hot. "May I come to your room in the evening?"

Thomas's face was so astonished that it practically didn't express any emotion. Jimmy wanted to come to him? To his room? Thomas's response was barely audible and perhaps more a question than an answer.

"Yes, of course."


	8. A Broken Clock

_"__Do you know why a clock works so immaculately, Thomas?" his father asked in a voice cold and calm, pervaded with stern undertones. He leaned back in his chair with an unchanged, emotionless expression drawn across his face, confidently exuding control of the situation with his body language alone._

_Thomas looked down sheepishly at his feet under the table. Even though he was already thirteen and on his way to becoming a confident young man, he could not fake the courage when confronted with his father's passive-aggressive analogies. He always found the man intimidating, whether he was in a regular mood or in one of his drunken rages, spewing curse words on mum because his shirt wasn't ironed properly or because she forgot to buy something._

_"__Answer me, boy," his father demanded, still keeping his tone calm and collected, but leaving no doubt that it was an order._

_Thomas swallowed and brought himself up to speak._

_"__B-because all the pieces fit together?"_

_"__Very good," the man nodded, with no real emotion. "Yes. It's because all the little gears fit together perfectly and make the mechanism run smoothly. Without… defect."_

_He spoke the last word by stressing it deliberately._

_Thomas was rubbing his hands together, interlacing his fingers nervously, twirling his thumbs one over the other._

_ "__And as one cog turns," his father proceeded to explain the process, "It pushes the next one to turn, and that one pushes the next one, and on it goes. All running without fault. D'you understand, boy?"_

_Thomas nodded. Father had taught him a lot about clocks, and he was no fool to forget it. He knew all this and he was certain his father knew that he knew it._

_No. There was an ulterior motive behind this lesson. It was to prolong Thomas's anxiety, to leave him under the guillotine, letting him sweat while he awaits for the blade to drop._

_"__People are similar," the older man continued monotonously, reaching in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "Our brains are like the mechanism of a clock. If all the gears don't fit together and turn as they should, we can't work properly." Father went on, his tone sterner and more ominous. "If they don't fit, they need to be fixed. Just like people."_

_He leaned forward again, but closer than before; almost face to face with Thomas. The black-haired boy looked up fearfully, spotting in his father's eyes something he could only interpret as rage – perhaps there was a trace of concern._

_"__You can't say things like that about boys ever again, Thomas," the man hissed, his voice was laced with warning. "D'you hear me?"_

_A fist slammed on the table and father raised his voice again. "It's most improper! You must never mention it, or else people will think the wheels in your brain are not turning properly!"_

_Thomas felt wielded to the chair. He'd lost control over his limbs, but he realised that his head was nodding reflexively. His reply was a barely audible whisper. "Y-yes, sir."_

_The colour drained out of his face and his grey eyes looked down again, fighting back the tears with wild determination. He would not show weakness!_

_His father finally took a cigarette between his teeth and lit it, taking a deep drag and exhaling a thick cloud of smoke._

_Thomas felt defeated and vulnerable. Emily and her friends whispered things about boys behind their parents' backs all the time! The only difference between him and his sister was that Thomas had the misfortune of having been overheard – and that he was a boy. He could see that boys didn't marry other boys, but he still didn't truly understand why this was so wrong, or how to fix it – and he would get no explanation from his father, only scolding. He decided that he shall be brave and ask for it this time._

_"__F-father?" Thomas spoke, quiet as a mouse – but it was loud enough; the man heard it and turned to him. "But w-why can't I like boys-"_

_A hand slapped flat against the boy's cheek, nearly knocking him off his chair. It was so sudden that he could barely register what just happened._

_"__Because you cannot!" The older man shouted, losing his patience. "I told you not to speak of it! You can't, because it's not natural, it's not-" he took a long, deep breath to compose himself, combing back his hair and taking another drag off the cigarette that was slowly burning in his hand._

_"__This isn't how the cogs are supposed to turn! It doesn't work that way, m'boy. Life won't be easy on ya, especially if you're broken."_

_He leaned forward and Thomas instinctively leaned back as far as he managed, but his father's eyes probed him and he could still smell the cigarette smoke and stale beer on his breath._

_"__But you're not broken. No. You don't need fixing, not my lad!" the older man spoke almost as if trying to offer consolation - but it didn't suit his character. He was speaking more to himself than he was to his son._

_"__Nah, your gears aren't broken, you just need to remember this lesson 's all. We made sure of this, haven't we!" his father concluded and nodded to himself, looking at the boy, but there was a distance between them. As it always has been._

_"__Da!" Emily's voice echoed through the room. "What's going on?" she asked, standing under the door-frame,_

_"__Nothing," father cut her off and stroked the back of his neck. "None of your concern," he murmured. "I'm off to the pub, tell your Ma to have dinner ready when I'm back."_

_But Emily was by Thomas's side in a few steps, kneeling down, looking at her little brother in shock._

_Their father let out a grunt of disapproval over this sentimentality but said nothing. He stood up and walked away from the kitchen table, leaving behind a trail of smoke._

_Thomas was in such a shock that he only now felt warm tears running down his cheeks and Emily's arms around his shoulders._

The hours of the day were meandering away like a lazy river and with each passing minute Thomas was growing more impatient, awaiting the evening.

By the time night began to fall, he started to wonder whether what he had planned with Jimmy was perhaps not too bright of an idea. It was never wise to meet with somebody in your bedroom, at night, after hours – it was the perfect thing to set people's alarm bells off, especially Mr Carson's – even if, as in this case, it would only be an innocent conversation.

Thomas still didn't know what exactly Jimmy wanted to talk about. 'Something about the fair,' he had told him, but nothing more. Whatever it was, it was something Jimmy wished to discuss in private; with Thomas and Thomas alone – that made him feel important, valued. Trusted.

Jimmy also appeared pensive and not entirely present in the moment that entire day. Whenever Thomas glanced at him, he could only wager that it was something of great importance if it kept him so consumed in his own thoughts.

Being kept in uncertainty was something Thomas was never fond of, but he didn't want to press Jimmy – not with this, not with anything. He'd be damned if he were to drive him off again!

But the sun went down and dinner was served and then the table was cleared afterwards. And past that point, as their meeting was nearing, the time suddenly went from a slow river to tiny grains of sand, quickly and unstoppably slipping through Thomas's fingers. He didn't know why he wished for more time. To prepare, perhaps – what for, he wasn't sure.

It would be the first time they were going to be alone in a room since that night – bar from when Thomas was injured and Jimmy came to patch things up between them.

But today was different. Thomas kept convincing himself that the nature of their meeting was casual, but the meeting itself was not. It was the evening, and there was something about that. Something intimate and secretive; nobody knew about it. However, it also had a potential of being a breeding ground for suspicion. If anyone found out about it-

There was a small knock on Thomas's bedroom door; sitting on his bed, the black-haired man looked up. Jimmy's head appeared, peeping in between the door and the door-frame. He looked at Thomas, smiling briefly as to greet him, then looking back in the hallway to check if anyone saw him. When he was certain that it was safe, he carefully closed the door behind him and entered.

"Hello," he said quietly.

"Hi," Thomas smiled back, but there was an apprehensiveness behind his eyes.

"May I join you?" Jimmy asked, more than just a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Thomas nodded and the blonde man sat down by his side, leaving some space between them.

There was silence. Jimmy clearly couldn't simply plunge into whatever he had to say, so Thomas tried to ease the situation.

"Smoke?" he asked and reached in his pocket for a cigarette – even if Jimmy refused, his own nerves were in a dire need of one.

Jimmy shook his head and rubbed his hands together anxiously as the other man lit himself a cigarette and puffed out a little cloud of smoke.

"I wanted to talk to you about the fair," Jimmy began slowly, looking at a spot on the opposite wall.

Thomas nodded. "So you said."

"Yes, well… I told you about the gypsy – but not what she told me."

"That's your private stuff, Jimmy. You don't need to tell me that-"

"But that's the thing," Jimmy interrupted, "I- I think it might… involve you."

Thomas furrowed his brows. "What d' you mean?"

Jimmy let out a shaky nervous breath. "Something she said- actually, can I have one? Changed my mind," he said about the cigarettes.

Thomas offered him the pack and then lit it for him. Jimmy took a long drag, and exhaled, calming himself down a bit.

"She said I'd be given back the time," he explained. "That's exactly what you did – you gave me back the watch."

He didn't have enough courage to delve into some other things which he also suspected could involve Thomas.

"But Jimmy," Thomas smiled innocently. "You don't really believe that meant anything? These 'prophecies' are so vague and arbitrary-"

"I know that," Jimmy cut him off impatiently. "I used to think so too – but then that woman said all those things about the time and the moons-"

"What moons?" Thomas blinked at him in confusion, a trail of smoke twirling away from the cigarette.

"A night that happened a dozen moons ago – a year ago," Jimmy explained. "I think she meant-"

"_That_ night?" Thomas surmised, his expression serious.

There was a short pause. Everything was quiet; in the room, in the hallway, even outside.

"Could 've been anything," Thomas brushed it off, but his face gave away that he was rather less unbothered by the matter than he cared to admit.

"Besides," he added. "That's not fortune telling, that's in the past…"

Jimmy sighed and gave him a small nod, not wishing to take matters further because he wasn't sure how he could explain why that might have been related to the present. He laid the cigarette aside in the ashtray on the table, pondering something for a moment.

"Can I ask you something? Something different?"

"Go on then," the other man said, bringing his own cigarette to his lips again.

"How do you know that you-"

Jimmy waved his hands in the air and tilted his head, giving Thomas a look that was supposed to prompt the other man to finish the sentence. He didn't.

"Well, you know," he forced himself to continue. "Love a _man_," he whispered, trying to get the words off his tongue as quickly as possible.

Thomas's eyes widened and he coughed, choking on the smoke. "What?"

"Simple as that," Jimmy shrugged, finding some confidence in Thomas's confusion. "How do you know?"

"Um…" Thomas was caught completely off guard. He didn't expect a question like that in a million years. He took one more drag and stubbed his own cigarette in the ashtray next to Jimmy's.

"Same way you know you love a woman I'd wager," he replied.

"But I want you to tell me exactly how," Jimmy demanded, but then asked more softly: "Thomas, please."

Jimmy looked him in the eyes, that overwhelming feeling rushing over him. He felt like he was falling into a stormy sea of those two grey wells, but with no fear of drowning.

Thomas looked back at the blonde man with awe.

"Their eyes," he spoke and made eye contact with Jimmy's blue-green galaxies. "You lose yourself in them. They feel like home."

Jimmy felt his stomach flip.

_He looked at Thomas looking at him; that honest, authentic, unguarded expression on his face – it was strangely comforting to Jimmy. He remembered how he'd glanced at Thomas one time and noticed it – the first time he felt that comfort, that calmness, a familiarity._

"Their smile nourishes you more than food and water," Thomas went on.

_Thomas's mouth stretched into a wide smile; that real, happy grin that Jimmy hadn't seen in a very long time. He never knew how much he missed it._

Jimmy's heart skipped a beat. Was it really this simple and yet so complicated? What he was feeling, was it-

Thomas continued: "And your heart races when you look at them." He briefly glanced at Jimmy's lips, but instantly composed himself. "You would do anything to protect them."

_He simply felt relief that Thomas was alright. It was all that mattered – all that truly mattered. One of the few things Jimmy was certain of was that he couldn't live with himself if something happened to Thomas._

"Because the thought of losing them knocks the air out of your lungs," Jimmy added in a quiet and questioning tone.

Thomas nodded and gave him an unguarded half-smile. "Something like that."

"Quite poetic," Jimmy teased and raised his eyebrows.

They both smiled. The air full of anxiety appeared to have cleared. There was a bridge between them – perhaps it always has been – but now it felt like they were both standing on it, not on the opposite sides of the river any more.

There was a short pause, but the blonde man's face turned serious.

"What is it?" Thomas asked.

Jimmy dropped his head, appearing to be ashamed of the question he was about to ask.

"Ever wish you…were different?"

The black-haired man looked down sombrely, but then he smiled at himself.

"I used to think I was broken," he admitted.

"But you realised you weren't?" Jimmy's voice sounded so caring and genuine that it made Thomas uncomfortable.

"Must we talk about this?"

"Yes!" Jimmy pressed. "I told you about the fair thing, now you have to answer this."

Thomas looked at him with hopeless affection. _No matter what you do, I can never deny you anything, he thought, _shaking his head at his own silliness.

"Love," he said.

He looked back at Jimmy and their eyes locked.

"If you feel love for someone," Thomas went on, "How can you be broken? How can that be wrong?"

Jimmy's heart was pounding loudly in his chest and he had to look away. Thomas's frame, the warmth of his body, his unguarded expression. Jimmy leaned in, not even trying to be discrete about it. His voice was a whisper.

"Thomas, I… I don't know what to do…"

His body felt a wild craving, yearning to break through that invisible wall between them that his mind had so stubbornly built.

Thomas felt a lump in his throat. He didn't dare expect what he suspected Jimmy was asking, but if this was really it- the thought made his stomach twist with desire.

"Well," he began softly, trying to make eye contact with Jimmy, even though the blonde man's eyes eluded his own.

"What do you _want_ to do?" he asked, sounding both fearful and in eager anticipation of the answer.

Jimmy swallowed nervously. _What do I want? I daren't do the thing I want to do..._

His eyes moved towards Thomas's cheekbones and then down to his jaw line. So sharp and framing his face perfectly. He craved to move his hand and touch it, but there was still something holding him back.

Instead, he mustered the courage to slowly lay his hand over Thomas's, instantly feeling his heartbeat under his fingertips. Thomas's lips parted in surprise, but he didn't move; he only stared at their hands.

Jimmy inhaled deeply, trying to steady his breath.

"Would you…" he began. "Could you close your eyes?" he asked, in his voice a shaky insecurity.

The black-haired man's lips curled into a sad and insecure half-smile as he continued to look down.

"Alright," he nodded. "Just-" his voice broke. "Just don't leave, alright," he breathed out, striving to make his words sound casual, funny perhaps – but the worry still seeped through every word.

Jimmy's hand, still resting over Thomas's, gave him a small but reaffirming squeeze.

"Thomas," he spoke and somehow mustered the courage to look up. He felt a connection through the insecurity that they were both feeling and it emboldened him. "I won't leave you."

Thomas lifted his head and their eyes met.

Jimmy's expression was unguarded and there was a sincerity in his voice that made Thomas trust him. He took another moment to hold onto that eye contact a little while longer, as if trying to engrave the moment in his mind where it could stay forever. Then he let his eyes fall shut.

Jimmy looked at him unblinkingly, also taking a second to observe Thomas's face; as he did, he felt that familiar, yet continuously repressed desire that made him both eager and at the same time deeply afraid of his own self.

"Keep 'em closed," Jimmy's voice ordered.

It was silly, but he felt a bit braver this way. His gaze fell on Thomas's lips and he slowly leaned in until he was less than an inch away from the other man's face. His heart was pounding wildly again, threatening to jump out of his chest, but like a magnet he was being pulled closer.

At last he closed his eyes and pressed their lips together.


	9. Step Through

Thomas didn't dare to move; he let Jimmy take full control of the kiss. He wanted to do something, but he couldn't believe this was really happening. He was paralysed by the situation he found himself in and feared that it was only a fantastical, fragile illusion that would break if he were bold enough to believe it.

The moment their lips brushed against each other, something stirred in Jimmy. It was as if a stone just rolled off his chest that had been weighing him down all his life. A muffled sound came from the back of his throat; the crackling facade finally crumbled and Jimmy – the real Jimmy – emerged into the light underneath it.

He moved his head slowly away from Thomas's lips, but kept his eyes closed. So long as he did that, no cruel reality could ever destroy this surreal dream.

"Jimmy," he heard Thomas's voice whispering, engulfing the blonde man even deeper in the outlandish fantasy.

It sounded so intimate; the words, the tone, the voice that spoke them – all completely his own. It made Jimmy's heart tremble with some newly found excitement and desire. He found satisfaction in the feeling of possessiveness. It all belonged to him, to no one else; the words, the man, the moment.

Jimmy's stomach twisted with lust like he had never felt it before and he leaned back in for a kiss, surrendering control of his body; he was guided by something else now.

Thomas's lips finally responded, kissing back gently at first, but becoming hungrier with each kiss that followed.

Jimmy moaned softly as he felt Thomas's tongue inside his mouth. Fear and excitement fused into one and sent waves of pleasure through his body, pulsing in the same rhythm as his heart.

Thomas lifted his hand and rested the palm against the side of Jimmy's neck, making goose bumps appear on his skin.

Jimmy's thoughts were a blur; he was being swept away and he couldn't stop the current. It scared him. It scared him that he didn't _want_ to stop it.

They were sinking into the moment, getting lost in each other's touch – but suddenly they both froze in place.

There was a creak in the hallway. Their eyes flew open and they pulled apart hastily, looking towards the door, eyes open wide. They didn't dare to move. They listened. Waited.

Nothing. No footsteps, no voices; whoever it was, they had moved on. Perhaps it was even only a floorboard.

The illusion that Jimmy so desperately tried to save was obliterated – reality washed over him like a bucket of icy water. _Oh, God, _he thought._ What the hell are you doing?! With a _man! _If someone catches you-_

He turned to look at Thomas and shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled in low voice, "I'm so sorry,"

"Why?" Thomas whispered, his face an image of confusion.

He reached up to caress Jimmy's face, but the blonde man leaned away.

_God, I want you, I do- but I _can't_ want you! _Jimmy thought, his mind and his heart crossing swords.

"I don't think I can do this…"

He watched the spark of yearning in Thomas's eyes going out and sharply looked away as disappointment replaced it.

"Why are you doing this?" Thomas asked quietly, a pain in his voice cutting through like a cold blade.

He didn't understand. Jimmy always brought him to the edge, told him to jump, and every time Thomas faithfully obeyed – but Jimmy would never jump after him. Even now, even after he _willingly_ kissed him, he still refused to let go of whatever was holding him back – but there was no doubt anymore. Jimmy did feel _something_!

"It's just- I don't know!" Jimmy's broke almost into a sob and he struggled to keep his voice down. "It's you, you _confuse_ me! I've never felt like this, not with anyone and- everything you said about loving someone, I just-"

He stopped and took a breath to compose himself. All the weight that he thought had lifted began crushing him once again.

"I thought if I pushed you away, if I drove us apart, that it would go disappear – but it didn't," Jimmy continued, powerlessness in him turning into panic. "It just won't go, I can't make it go away, and I don't really want to but it-it scares me, Thomas!"

Silence fell like a heavy curtain and the tension in the air dispersed, if ever so slightly.

After everything that happened between them, everything Jimmy had said and done to hurt Thomas, everything that baffled him, that contradicted itself, all the things that he couldn't tie in – it all made sense now. Thomas suddenly felt the full weight of how conflicted Jimmy must have been; how terribly torn and alone he was, without anyone to lean on, anyone to trust.

He knew the feeling well, even if it had been years since he experienced it himself. It felt like drowning. Even though he had his mother's and sister's sympathies, he didn't have anyone who could tell him that there was no need to try and swim up to the surface. Men of his sort were meant to breathe under water. No matter how badly the world tried to convince Thomas otherwise, he knew gradually came to learn that he would suffocate if he ever tried to live on the shore like most people.

Jimmy should never have to go through that! Thomas remembered how he always suspected it about Jimmy, but didn't dare believe it. It hurt all the more now to know that he so determinedly tried to suppress and escape it because the world ordered him that he had to.

Thomas desperately wanted to wrap his arms around him, press his lips to his, kiss away the pain and worries – but he feared that if he were to do that, it would only make matters worse.

He inhaled deeply and then cautiously moved his hands to place them over Jimmy's. He was expecting him to move and pull away, but was pleasantly surprised that he didn't.

Thomas had little experience with comforting people or finding the right words to say, but he had to say _something_.

"Don't be afraid," he spoke softly, hoping he sounded as genuine as he felt, yet there was still an awkwardness about the words that came out of his mouth. "You're not alone."

He saw Jimmy's face in the dim light of the room, the corners of his lips lifting into a sad smile.

"I tried _not_ loving you," Thomas continued in a low voice, leaning in a bit closer. "I even thought I'd chased it away but it seems that no matter what you do, I don't think I can ever stop. I can't stop, Jimmy, because I know that you-"

Jimmy's persistently looked down, his face masking his emotions.

Thomas decided last second not to say what he had intended to. "I know it's terrifying and you think it's wrong – but no one should tell you what you're supposed to feel. Or what you aren't."

_Don't do it, don't say it,_ Thomas scolded himself in his mind for what he was about to say. _You'll lose him forever-_

"But I will. I'll stop if you really want me to."

The words left Thomas's lips with a struggle, but he spoke them as calmly as he could. "I'll let you be – and I mean it this time."

Jimmy finally looked up, his stare uneasy, confused, searching Thomas's eyes for something that he couldn't seem to find.

"I'll stop if you truly don't feel anything. Just tell me that you don't," he whispered, his brows knitted in determination, but the fear of Jimmy's answer was glistening in his eyes.

Jimmy's fingers moved at long last, taking Thomas's hand between his palms. He didn't say anything and the other man couldn't stand the uncertainty any more.

"Tell me-"

Jimmy dove into a kiss, suddenly and unexpectedly, with more confidence than before.

Thomas's lips parted willingly under Jimmy's, letting him in. His gloved hand cupped his face, then slid further back and he ran his fingers through Jimmy's blonde hair. Through locked lips they shared the same breath of solace and surrender.

_I can't,_ Jimmy answered in his mind. _I can't tell you that, and I can't lose you! Not now that I know what it's like to have you!_

Unstoppable waves of desire crashed against him, a new one with each kiss, with each touch. His lips continued to move of their own accord; again and again, kissing and tasting Thomas, craving for more.

He finally broke free from his invisible shackles, gathering the courage to touch Thomas's cheek; a desire that had passed him by countless times, and now he finally gave into it. His hand moved lower, rubbing over Thomas's chest, feeling the heat from his body and the heartbeat underneath his shirt.

It was forbidden, it was supposed to be impure – but it felt like the most genuine desire he'd ever experienced. After an eternity of trying to carve it out of his heart, brush it off, wash it off his skin – he gave up the control and let it take him.

His hand instinctively slipped down to Thomas's crotch, and the man inhaled sharply into the kiss at the unexpected touch.

Caught up in the moment, Jimmy didn't register what he was doing right away – not until Thomas's hand was resting on him – his eyes flew open in shock, limbs freezing in place. He pulled his hand away almost instantly.

Their eyes met, the blonde man's face blushed with embarrassment which was barely visible in the dim amber light.

He looked down between them. It wasn't just where _his_ hand was, but also what Thomas's was doing and – to Jimmy's amazement – that his own body was responding to the arousal.

Thomas's hand stilled over Jimmy's trousers, a questioning look in his eyes.

"Do you want me to st-"

Jimmy cut him short by quickly leaning back into a kiss, deep and hungry. He shook his head.

"Don't stop," he whispered between the kisses, breathless and panting for more.

He couldn't lose the moment – he knew that if he paused for just another second, the full gravity of the situation would wash over him and fear would win. This was the most liberating thing he ever felt. He refused to let it slip away.

Thomas could no longer hold back either; as much as he tried to take it slow for Jimmy's sake, he could hardly control it. He was painfully aroused and his hands eagerly sought to find their way under Jimmy's shirt.

Jimmy gasped at the touch of Thomas's palms against the bare skin of his back. He found himself being lowered down onto the mattress. His legs spread on their own, allowing for Thomas to climb on top of him.

He started to roll his hips down in a rhythmical motion. His breathing was rapid and rough, and Jimmy's own echoed in response.

_Fuck this feels good, _was all he could think as their erections rubbed together, aching to be released from their trousers. Jimmy's eyes were closed as he concentrated on the sensation, his mind was clouded, but every inch of his body felt like it was on fire.

He moaned, a low raspy voice coming from the back of his throat. He wanted more.

"Shh," Thomas warned, struggling equally hard to keep quiet, and kissed him again.

Thomas's hands brushed over Jimmy's shirt slid down to his trousers. A warm palm cupped his erection through the fabric and Jimmy inhaled sharply, letting his head drop back on the pillow.

Thomas's voice quietly muttered something in awe.

_Oh God, I can't take this,_ Jimmy thought as Thomas stroked him, and then lowered his head to kiss him between his legs.

Panic and pleasure were rising inside of him. He felt his trousers being pulled down and the cool air touched his skin – and then Thomas's warm hand replaced it, rubbing up and down his hard-on, slowly gaining speed.

Then suddenly, the hand movements stilled and Jimmy felt Thomas's lips engulf him, taking him in.

He opened his eyes and looked down at the man between his legs, at his mouth wrapped around his erection.

"Oh, God, Thomas- I-"

He was stricken with sudden fear at the sight of what was going on – but it was too late. He couldn't move, let alone walk away now.

The sensation was overwhelming and Jimmy wasn't sure that he would be able to contain himself. His hands dug into the sheets, twisting them harder with every moan. His hips pushed up, aching for more, but Thomas held him in place.

He was so close it was almost unbearable.

"Thomas, please- ahh," he groaned, covering his mouth with his hand.

Thomas was taking in more and more of him, taking him deeper, quicker and rougher – until Jimmy felt that he was only moments away from coming.

_Oh, Thomas- NO, you have to stop-_

"Stop! Stop, I'm going to-"

Thomas understood; he raised his head and wrapped his palm around where his mouth had been, the movements of his hand guiding Jimmy to his climax.

The world around Jimmy slowly started to regain its shape. The outlines of the ceiling above him, the walls and the furniture illuminated by a faint light, the sound of their breathing, the heartbeat in Jimmy's chest, Thomas's figure lying beside him; the awareness of what happened.

_God, what have we done! What have _I_ done!_

His body was still in ecstasy from the experience, but he forced it to move, to sit up and to obey him as he pulled his trousers up and covered his indecency.

"I- I have to go," he mumbled, straightening his clothes, unable to look Thomas in the eye.

Thomas spoke in a soft voice and reached out his hand, but Jimmy avoided it.

"You can stay-"

"No," Jimmy insisted. "No, I just-" His eyes glanced Thomas's erection pressing hard against his trousers and he felt himself blushing. He didn't know how to handle this – well, he did – just not like this.

Thomas followed Jimmy's eyes and noticed what he was staring at.

"You don't have to do anything, Jimmy-"

"Yes- no- I mean," he turned his head towards the door impatiently, wishing to escape his embarrassment.

He offered Thomas a sincere apologetic look. "I just need some time…"

Thomas looked at him with a mix of sadness and worry, but he nodded. _Don't rush him,_ he thought. It was all new to Jimmy and honestly, it was not surprising that he was feeling so shook. He knew he shouldn't take offense - it wasn't _that_. It was how it was demonized.

He watched Jimmy leave and when he finally found himself alone in a whirlwind of emotions, he lay back and thought of everything he found today, and how much more he suddenly had to lose.


	10. Green Carnations

They had been together. They had touched and kissed and it wasn't a dream. He held him in his arms. He touched his skin, felt his heartbeat, tasted his lips, tasted _him_-

Thomas closed his to concentrate on the memory and took another drag off his cigarette, exhaling the cloud of smoke through his nose.

He brought his hand up to his lips, tracing them with his fingertips, remembering last night; remembering that Jimmy had been there. It wasn't a dream.

_'_ _I can't make it go away, and I don't want to – but it scares me!'_

Despite everything else, despite all the wonderful and amazing things that _they'd_ experienced – it was these words that still echoed in Thomas's mind the loudest.

Jimmy was fighting his emotions with aggression and defensiveness. The more Thomas understood the situation the more devastated he was for him.

_'You confuse me,'_ – it was ironic. Everything he wanted was for Jimmy to reciprocate his feelings – but not quite like that. Not to his detriment. Not if it made a war rage inside of Jimmy. Whether Jimmy was indeed… _like him_ – or not, he was still drawn to trying something _other_ men would never dream of.

Thomas had been given a taste of the wildest reverie, and now he was conflicted because he had no idea what the aftermath would bring. It still felt surreal to think about it – Thomas wanted to, _God_, he desperately wanted to believe it since the day he laid eyes on that man – that he could get to love him, and that he would be loved back by him. And that's exactly why it felt like a crazy fantasy, bound to crumble like a house of cards.

They hadn't talked since; hadn't spoken a word beyond the awkward 'good morning' at breakfast. Jimmy evaded Thomas's eyes, much like he did back when he was holding a grudge over that kiss. That stupid kiss!

To think that if only he hadn't come to Jimmy that night things could have turned out so completely different. They probably never would have fallen out – yet Thomas doubted very much that Jimmy would have arrived to the point of admitting his own true feelings to himself.

It made Thomas feel terrible on a whole other level about the audacity he allowed himself with the kiss; because now he felt like he had thrown Jimmy into the line of fire when he wasn't ready to face it yet – if he ever would be.

It was possible to live a 'normal' life, but it came at a cost. Come to think of it, so did the choice Thomas had made. He refused to wear the armour that would protect him from judgement, and his spirit may have been broken too many times to keep count; but he stubbornly clung onto the hope of finding happiness. Had he opted for the first, the 'safe' option, he knew he would be dead inside; but that was something so fundamental that he could not brush it off to the side.

He brought his hand up to his mouth and took another drag off his cigarette.

He needed time – of course he did – but Thomas knew Jimmy and he was terrified that he would let some stupid pride or ego driven by what was _normal_ triumph over what was truly inside his heart. Still, it felt vain thinking that _he_ should know what was in fact in Jimmy's heart.

Thomas leaned back against the wall and exhaled a puff of smoke.

It was a pleasantly warm day and slightly breezy. A few colourful yellow and orange leaves which had been blown into the servants' courtyard from the garden were lying on the ground. You could smell autumn in the air.

Thomas was out here alone, enjoying a short break from work before he had to return and start preparing for dinner. Lady Edith was packing to leave for London, and Alfred and Jimmy were carrying the suitcases to the car. The kitchen was busy as always, Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes were never short of work, only the Batses were not around, having gone to the village, but were of course returning in the evening.

Thomas was stirred from his thoughts when the backdoor of the house opened and a blonde-haired figure emerged, stepping out and instantly noticing him. Even though Jimmy appeared hesitant for a moment, he did end up walking over to Thomas.

The black-haired man observed him as he approached, taking notice of his head-lowered, hands-in-pockets gait. He was so unlike his usual confident self today and Thomas wondered if it was all due to their last night's encounter.

"Hi," Jimmy mumbled, avoiding eye contact and leaning against the wall next to the other man, but with a fair span of inches between them.

Thomas could sense his uneasiness and tried his best not to do anything to worsen it. He smiled in greeting and gave him a quick glance.

"So, Lady Edith's left then, I reckon?"

"Off to catch the four o'clock," Jimmy nodded.

They stood there in silence for a moment, Thomas smoking and Jimmy pensively looking at the leaves under their feet, then briefly sneaking a glance at the other man, wondering if he was waiting for _him_ to say something.

"It's funny, isn't it?" Jimmy proceeded to comment as casually as he could, evading the reason why he came here in the first place. "How they can just go wherever they please, for however long they want. No worries about money or anything."

Thomas grinned."You sound like you just figured out how their lives work."

"No," the blonde man protested, a hint of amusement in his tone an indicator that he was getting more comfortable. "I'm always aware of it, how could I not be? But sometimes you just notice it and it dawns on you how different out lives are. Know what I mean?"

Thomas nodded pensively. "Yes..."

They did seem incomparably easier sometimes, the lives of the upper classes. Thomas respected the Granthams as his employers and quite liked them, but he didn't think that just because somebody was born into wealth they were somehow better than the working class folk, as was often made to be. The only truth was that they had more opportunities and freedom, and he did envy that.

Jimmy watched Thomas take a deep drag off his cigarette, his mouth tightly wrapped around it and cheeks sucked in.

An image from last night appeared in Jimmy's mind and he felt himself blushing. He felt parts of his body warming up with desire at the memory- Thomas's hands against his skin, their mouths pressed together, Thomas's mouth around Jimmy's-

He quickly made sure to snap out of it and gather his thoughts once again.

"I, uh…" he began hesitantly, looking at his feet. "I was hoping we might… get a chance to talk? Now that it's just us."

Thomas nodded casually, but his heartbeat quickened. "Go on then."

Jimmy swallowed nervously, hoping that the lump in his throat would go away, but he still felt uncomfortable talking about the matter.

He lowered his voice to a whisper. "About last night- I shouldn't have-" he had a passing thought and couldn't help but laugh at himself, much to Thomas's initial confusion. "I've got to stop running away from you, haven't I?" he established, shaking his head.

Thomas's lips curled into a mischievous grin and he assessed it was alright to allow himself a little tease.

"It might be becoming a habit," he commented. "Even though _I_ _did_ encourage you to do it the first time."

He looked around to make sure they were still alone, and he turned back towards Jimmy.

"I know it must be intimidating, all this," he said quietly. "But we're not doing anything wrong."

Jimmy scoffed, turning away. "Aren't we?"

_Oh, love, don't be like this! _He appeared to be disappointed in himself and Thomas couldn't stand it.

"No, of course not," he assured him, stopping his own hand the last second before it reached out to hold Jimmy's. "Look; I won't presume to tell you why you did what you did last night. But it's going to be alright either way. I promise."

Jimmy looked at him distrustfully but with a great desire to believe his words. "How can you promise?"

"Because you won't be alone."

Jimmy met his eyes, even though didn't mean to; still, he was expecting to feel embarrassed, and he did a little – but he was struck by that known feeling of familiarity, of indescribable reassurance and safety in spite of wearing his heart on his sleeve.

He leaned closer, glancing down to Thomas's lips which made him lose his train of thought for a second. _Your mind is putting up a fight, but your heart's been craving since that night._

He smiled to himself ironically, making Thomas give him a questioning look.

"I don't know what would've happened if Alfred hadn't walked in," Jimmy said quietly. "Probably would've given you a smack across the face before anything else because you scared the devil out of me, but-"

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He didn't need to think, he just needed to find the strength to say it. He looked up again and found it in Thomas's eyes.

"But then," he whispered. "I think I'd have liked to have kissed you back."

Thomas looked at him unblinkingly. He appeared to be in awe by that revelation.

"And I still want-" Jimmy paused and looked down. "I think I _would like_ to try this."

_Oh, love!_ Thomas thought. _Don't tease me, please, I can't take it-_

"Jimmy," Thomas breathed, hardly remembering how to form words. "D'you mean it? Truly?"

"I don't know how or- if things become…" he waved his hands around, making some gestures that made as much sense as his half-finished sentences. "But as daft as it sounds I need to know more, I need-"

Thomas's hand reached for Jimmy's with no regard if anyone could have been watching them. They very quickly and gently intertwined their fingers, and then Thomas reluctantly removed his hand.

"I'd love nothing more, Jimmy," he breathed.

Jimmy gave him one of those shy smiles that Thomas hadn't seen in a while, and he was overcome by a wonderful and ineffable sense of joy. He ached for more than just a fearful touch of hands; he wanted to plunge forward, to dig his fingers in those muscles and press their lips together – which, naturally, he couldn't do. But he did take a moment to bask in that sunshine of a smile that warmed his heart.

"I have to go now," Jimmy said regretfully and Thomas nodded, remembering that he

best be going inside and making himself busy as well.

"Me too," he replied, then took one last drag of his cigarette before dropping it down on the cobblestones and stepping on it to stub it out.

Before they walked through the door, Thomas came this close to suggesting to Jimmy that he was welcome if he wanted to visit him again in the evening – but he decided best not to push it. Let him decide. Besides – what yesterday evolved into was quite reckless, and even though he craved it, meeting too often sadly meant more risk.

When they entered Thomas was quickly pulled aside by Mr Carson who needed him to take care of something, and Jimmy made his way upstairs to wind the clocks in the north wing as he had previously been instructed to do.

Between the guest bedrooms that were unoccupied and Lady Edith's current absence, this part of the manor was practically completely empty. Jimmy decided to start with the large grandfather clock in the Mercia bedroom.

It was a beautiful old thing; dark rosewood with intricate carvings and golden accents. He assessed it must be older than the one downstairs and he wondered why on earth the Crawleys kept it hidden up here when it was much more of a showpiece than the one standing by the staircase.

As he was winding the clock, he glimpsed through the window, noticing two figures walking outside in the garden; Lady Grantham in her fancy large hat and Lord Grantham strolling by her side with Isis.

Jimmy finished his work and then stepped over to the window, putting down the winding key onto the drawer next to it and having a look.

It was early October and there was a carpet of orange and yellow leaves all around the house. The low sun was casting its warm ember light onto the treetops in the distance, a patchwork of red, orange and evergreen, extending as far as the eye could see, around the Granthams' estate and beyond. In the distance, he could see the sunlit outlines of the village houses and meadows and fields.

A heaviness weighed down on his heart. Jimmy suddenly found himself yearning for freedom – not so much freedom, but rather independence. Being his own master, doing whatever he liked, going wherever he wanted. Like those traveller gypsies he'd seen as a child.

He thought he may have over-romanticized their lives, but he was always drawn out into the world, escaping the ordinary and the mundane. This time it was more about his emotions escaping the cage they were trapped in. To have the freedom of loving whoever he liked.

_Do you love him?_

He leaned his elbow on the drawer and allowed his mind to wander far away, somewhere where it got lost among colourful caravans and tents, where a group of merry people were dancing and singing a jig, playing some tune he vaguely remembered from his childhood.

Jimmy doubted he could ever be completely free, even in that world of Traveller. But his idealised image of their bohemian lives came as close to freedom as he could imagine it.

He didn't know if that was realistic, but perhaps he could join them. Perhaps Thomas could go with him. They could learn a craft, tinker, sell something, like they saw the Gypsies do; for starters Thomas could repair watches and Jimmy could play the piano or whatever similar instrument the Travellers carried around to entertain…

As daft as it was imagining Thomas ever running off or fitting in with the Gypsies, Jimmy liked to think that the two of them would be under less scrutiny among such a free-spirited vagabond folk than they were here. Jimmy would get a chance to figure everything out in peace, without trembling for his job and reputation if he were ever found doing as little as touching Thomas's hand. He doubted he ever could in public, but maybe simply having more control over your own life would be enough...

Caught up in his thoughts, he moved his elbow but clumsily knocked down the winding key as he did so.

He sighed, annoyed with his own carelessness, and turned around to pick it up – only to realise that it had slid under the bookshelf by the adjacent wall.

"Well that's dandy," he quietly grunted.

He turned towards the closed door of the room as if checking that nobody was there. Then he kneeled down, pressing his ear to the floor and peeping under the shelf, and prayed that no one would walk in on him while in this undignified position.

He tried to reach under the crevice under it but with no success.

"You've got to be joking," he hissed under his breath, contemplating if the consequences would be worse if he simply told Mr Carson that he 'lost' the winding key. Surely it had to be worse if somebody catches you, crouched down and wrestling with a bookshelf.

"Oh, come on! How heavy can you be?!" he nagged at the piece of furniture as he struggled to move it in order to access under it.

There was a creaking, almost echoing sound and the shelf finally budged – but instead of being pushed to the side, the shelf swung _into _the wall like a door and Jimmy, unprepared for this, fell forward, catching himself by grabbing onto it.

_What the-?_

It wasn't just _like_ a door – that's exactly what it was! The daylight shone through the opening and revealed a narrow dark tunnel behind it. Jimmy's eyes widened in shock and excitement as he stared into the darkness which he just unearthed. He was staring at it as if he were stunned, but he somehow managed to pick himself up and stand upright, facing it.

He'd never heard of any secret rooms or passages in the guestrooms. Thomas told him about one in the cellars, and the door leading from the library into the music room was hardly a secret – but this-

He gulped and pushed the shelf open even more. It creaked again and a cold, damp, dusty smell hit him. There was a thick, torn cobweb clinging to the top corner where the shelf was attached to rusty hinges, and another smaller one on the opposite side, above his head.

A sense of adventure enkindled inside Jimmy and rushed through his veins, making his heart pound faster. He took a step forward, feeling under his foot the winding key he had forgotten all about. He picked it up and turned his head back towards the bedroom door.

_You shouldn't,_ he thought. _They'll catch you and you'll be out of here_ _without a reference before you can say 'Jack Robinson'!_

But his feet carried him over to the door and he peered into the hallway. There seemed to be no one in sight.

The sense of adventure engulfed him, along with the acute awareness that he will almost certainly not be given another chance or as perfect of an opportunity to explore this.

_You've lost it, you've completely lost it, _he thought and quietly closed the door, then walked over the bookshelf, took a breath and stepped forward, letting the darkness envelop him.

He turned around and reached for the heavy bookshelf-door with both hands to close it behind him – but not completely! He left it slightly open, only a crack, because he refused to risk the chance of the old thing shutting behind him and possibly trapping him inside.

_You're mad!_ _Absolutely mad!_

It was pitch dark now, bar from a thin streak of daylight that cut through the narrow opening between the door and the wall. Everything was silent; he could only hear his intensified breathing echoing from the walls.

He felt around, laying his palm flat against the cold brick wall. With his other hand, he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a lighter. It didn't offer much light, but it was enough to help him navigate around.

He quickly realised it wasn't a whole other room, but rather some kind of passage – he made only a few steps before he nearly tumbled down a staircase. It was spiral and narrow, and it was even more coated in cobwebs further down; he wagered no one must have been here in years.

How was it possible that the Crawleys didn't know about it? These century old houses often had secrets, and perhaps this one managed to elude a generation or two… or maybe they _did_ know about it but had no use for it and had bricked in the other entrance, or wherever the stairs led.

Jimmy tried to get his bearings; the Mercia bedroom was located above the dining room, so he must have been descending somewhere to its vicinity.

It was indeed only a short flight of stairs, and it wasn't long before Jimmy found himself in front of another wall. There was nothing to the left nor to the right. He brought the lighter closer, investigating, feeling for a doorknob, anything that would indicate that it wasn't just a brick wall.

His pulse quickened when the light illuminated the hinges on one side. Under his fingers, he felt something dusty, but what could very well be a doorknob or at least something to tug at.

First, he listened for a while, for any voices that could be coming from the other side. When he was certain there was no one, he tucked the lighter back in his pocket and used both hands to pull the door towards himself, praying that it wouldn't make a loud sound when it opened.

It was heavy and tightly sealed and it resisted just like the bookshelf-door upstairs; but he finally managed to pull it open and stopped it immediately when it was only open by an inch – he didn't know what or who might be on the other side and he had to make sure no one knew that _he_ was on this one.

He moved closer and peered through. It looked like the empty hallway that led to the dining room, just like he had assumed. He couldn't see much either, and he didn't dare risk it – but there appeared to be a part of a painting right opposite him. He could recognise some green flowers in a glass vase.

Jimmy didn't have the entire house memorised – let alone its paintings – but he decided to remember this and go look at things from the other perspective. He knew roughly where he was, so if he found that painting then whatever was opposite it would have to be this secret door.

He felt a wild rush of excitement; but he had to keep his composure. Once again he listened if anyone was near, and when he decided that they weren't he closed the door as cautiously and as silently as he could and headed back up the staircase and to the bedroom.


	11. The Looking Glass

"Where!?"

"Behind the bookshelf," Jimmy explained excitably, his eyes twinkling with glee.

In turn, Thomas stared at him as surprised as ever.

"And where does it lead?"

"I haven't had the chance to get a proper look," Jimmy replied. "But I'm pretty certain the other entrance is in the hallway by the dining room. Opposite the painting with the green flowers. I looked for it while we were serving dinner and opposite the painting is-"

"That long mirror," Thomas finished his sentence with a contemplative look on his face.

The blonde man nodded. Of course, Thomas knew the house to a tee.

It was a large full-length mirror and Jimmy was certain that the wooden panel wall where it was hung had to open into the passage somehow.

Thomas took a long breath and rubbed the back of his neck, reflecting on everything he had just heard.

"But are you sure? Sure it wasn't a dream-"

"Thomas, I was there, I went in," Jimmy insisted and puffed out his chest. "I didn't fall asleep in the middle of the day!"

"Right," the other man nodded, realising how patronizing he sounded. "Right…"

But Jimmy could tell, and it didn't surprise him, that Thomas's mind was still not entirely convinced about the whole thing, finding it probably as outlandish as it actually was.

A secret passage in the guest bedroom that he didn't know about? Thomas thought it a joke. In over a decade that he'd been here and he never heard of it, never came across it himself?! It was _absolutely_ ridiculous but he _absolutely_ had to see it.

"And you don't think the Crawleys know about it?"

"It was all dusty and covered in cobwebs," Jimmy replied. "I doubt anyone's been there recently."

Contemplative, Thomas paced up and down his room as Jimmy sat on his bed observing him. It was clear how interested Thomas was, even though he tried to conceal it. There was something terribly attractive about this side of him; a man not quite as rational and unfazed as he usually was, but rather more excitable. Even his hiding the excitement was somehow endearing in its own way - but he was coming up with a plan, Jimmy could see.

"Well, we can't go there now," Thomas expressed his thoughts aloud, pensively stroking his chin. "We'll have to wait 'till everyone's asleep; certainly not before midnight…"

Jimmy nodded, agreeing with Thomas's words, even though he wished they could just go right now. He already had to wait all afternoon and most of the evening to tell Thomas about the matter. He couldn't say anything about a secret passage when there was a constant possibility of someone overhearing them; during dinner or at any other time.

"We'll wait then," Jimmy said and stood up to leave. "When should I come back? Or should we just meet downstairs-"

"You can stay here a while," Thomas quickly moved to suggest in a soft voice, realising that he probably sounded more awkward and keen than he had hoped. "If you want, I mean," he added to blunt the message.

Jimmy swallowed and looked down at his feet, immediately struck by unease.

He said he wanted to try this, and he meant it – but if he were to stay, they would be here for at least an hour longer and he didn't know what to expect or what Thomas was expecting... Jimmy craved something, but he feared it would end in the same way it did yesterday – with him panicking and running away, making it terrible for the both of them.

Thomas picked up on Jimmy's reservation and rapidly intervened to put him at ease and not scare him away.

"I'm not suggesting anything," he said and sat on the bed. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable and I don't want you to do anything you don't want. I thought it would be nice to be alone for a bit. We can just sit here and talk," he suggested with a sincerity in his eyes that beckoned the blonde man to stay. "Whatever you'd like."

Jimmy thought of how fast it all happened last night, how the current just pulled him along. He was embarrassed that he left the way he did, and astonished with how Thomas accepted and even how little he resented Jimmy for everything he had done and said to him in the past. He didn't want any ill will between them, of course – but it made him feel somehow less worthy of Thomas's affections now that he realised how much he needed them after shunning them for so long.

But on the other hand he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his desires at bay forever. What they had done, what Jimmy _let_ Thomas do to him – it was frightening but so wonderful. There was a blooming eagerness inside him to be around Thomas. To dare to dream that they could have this without feeling guilty-

"Alright," he nodded and slowly sat beside the other man.

Almost as if he were able to read Jimmy's mind, Thomas brought up the same topic the blonde man was thinking about.

"And I'm sorry by the way," he said, giving Jimmy a contrite look. "If I pushed you into it yesterday, if it was too much-"

"No," Jimmy stopped him, not really knowing why. He wasn't wrong; it _had_ overwhelmed him – but he wanted it still. "Don't apologize, you did nothing wrong. It wasn't _too much_," he explained. "I'm just not used to it," he admitted, hiding his face away. "And it happened so quickly-"

_We rushed it,_ Thomas knew. It _was _overwhelming for Jimmy. Too fast, too far. He felt a pang of guilt for not being able to control himself and for being as assertive at it as he probably was.

"I want us to, Thomas," Jimmy said reassuringly but shook his head. "I just don't know how you can manage it. Being like this with no second thoughts when the whole world is telling you how wrong it is."

"Don't have much choice," Thomas replied and gave him a sad smile.

"I know, but I just- I keep thinking it's not how things are _supposed_ to be…"

Thomas knew he wasn't referring to whatever was between them but rather to the world; to society and what some people had to say about matters that didn't concern them. Once again, he could almost feel the weight of it all pressing on Jimmy constantly, and it weighed down on him too because he didn't know how to lift it off Jimmy.

He timidly reached out to the blonde man's cheek, concerned that his touch would not be welcome; but Jimmy leaned into it, closing his eyes. Thomas gently stroked the outlines of his jaw line, carefully balancing the fear of coming off as too intrusive but still expressing his care for the other man.

They hadn't yet cleared the air between them. There was something more that was bothering Jimmy, Thomas could see. Something he wasn't letting in on.

"That's why you did it, isn't it?" Thomas asked. "Persistently pushed me away, bent on hurting me – not just because of that daft midnight kiss," he shook his head, remembering how stupid that was. "You said you wanted to make it go away, that it scares you; it was because you couldn't accept that you were not how you were 'supposed to be', wasn't it?"

Jimmy's brows drew together and he closed his eyes tight, giving his expression the look of pain. He wrapped his fingers around Thomas's wrist, holding onto him; he felt tears would overwhelm him if he opened his eyes.

Thomas was Jimmy's own personal addiction and the more Jimmy unlocked his heart the stronger the addiction beckoned him, the rougher it pulled and the more control it took.

"I don't deserve this," he spoke in a shaky voice, suddenly pulling away from Thomas's hand and burying his face in his own palms. "I didn't know how to handle how I felt-"

"I understand, it's fine now-"

"No, it's not," Jimmy protested, finally looking up with his eyes tearing up. "I was hurting you because I thought if I did, you would stop caring for me and I wouldn't have a reason to feel anything good for you."

"Oh, Jimmy," Thomas whispered sadly. "Forget about that. Forget all of it-"

"But it was so horrible; those men could have beaten you to death because of me-"

"That wasn't your fault."

Jimmy swayed forward and leaned his forehead against Thomas's collarbone. Thomas was stunned for a second - he didn't expect this; but then he wrapped his arms around Jimmy's back, taking some of his weight and just holding him close.

"It's alright. It's all going to be alright…" he whispered against Jimmy's ear, soothing him.

But then Jimmy suddenly lifted his head and leaned in for a kiss.

It was sad and angry and hungry. He was craving solace; he needed to feel safe and true to himself and as of recently he could only be that around Thomas.

They slowly pulled apart, lightly panting. Jimmy's hand was pressed against Thomas's chest and he was feeling his heartbeat under his fingertips.

"I wanted you," he said. "And after you said you still loved me, I couldn't let it slip through my fingers again."

Thomas covered Jimmy's hand with his own and intertwined their fingers. He lifted Jimmy's hand with both of his he held it up between them, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of it; then he turned it around and pressed a kiss on the two little scars on Jimmy's middle and ring finger from his accident a few days ago.

Jimmy stared at him unblinkingly, his lids heavy and eyes fixed on Thomas's lips. The world around them was melting into a shapeless mush and they were entering their own little bubble again.

Thomas lifted his head away from the blonde man's hand and leaned in.

"Is this alright?" he spoke in Jimmy's ear as he ran his gloved hand down his chest, only a thin layer of fabric barring the skin-on-skin contact.

The touch and the feeling of Thomas's warm breath against his neck made goose-bumps appear on Jimmy's skin.

"Yes," he replied, his voice a whisper, and turned his head to meet Thomas's lips.

These kisses that followed were slower, softer, in complete dedication to each other. For the first time Jimmy found himself registering how soft Thomas's lips were and how familiar and comforting they tasted. Thomas kissed his lower lip, running his tongue over it, and Jimmy's stomach dropped with lust but also with a need to take it slow.

"Can we lie down?" he asked between kisses. "I don't think I can do what we did yesterday, but can we just lie here a bit?"

Thomas leaned away from the kiss and ran his hand down Jimmy's chest. "Of course."

They both somehow managed to fit in the narrow bed, lying on their sides and facing each other.

Jimmy still felt a bit of intimidation; it was somehow easier to just plunge in and kiss and do all other things when he didn't have the time to focus on what he was doing – but afterwards, when his mind cleared, then came the shock and overwhelmingness.

This however, took more courage; to lie next to an aroused man, touch him and kiss him, fully aware of what you're doing. But by second he was getting more comfortable. This wasn't just a series of poorly fleshed out images and sounds – he could take a picture of this moment and hold onto it.

_God, you're beautiful,_ Jimmy thought as he observed Thomas's face while the other man stroked his cheek with one hand and rested the other on Jimmy's hip.

"Is this, uh… fine for you?" Jimmy asked timidly and glanced down at Thomas's crotch.

"'S alright," Thomas replied and leaned in for a kiss. "You're in my bed," he smiled. "In my arms. It's more than enough."

Jimmy closed his eyes and focused on the knuckles of Thomas's hand gently brushing against his skin. Thomas's other hand on his hip was slowly making circles and then it moved higher up, fingers tracing Jimmy's ribs and chest. He could almost fall asleep like this.

Jimmy felt his own arm lifting, hand moving a bit nervously to touch Thomas in turn; the warmth from his body under Jimmy's fingers, the outlines of his muscles and bones – even though it was through the fabric of his shirt – Jimmy felt like he was exploring his body, learning to navigate a new and unfamiliar terrain, becoming more familiar and comfortable with it thorough time.

They touched and kissed for a while and eventually just ended up lying there in an embrace, both half-asleep.

Thomas was resting his head on the pillow, breathing low. He'd needed some time to calm his excitement, but now he was almost at the brink of sleep, yet too full of joy to let dreams take him just yet.

His chest was now pressed against Jimmy's back and his hand was lightly hugging him around his torso. With closed eyes Thomas sunk into this fantastical reality that enfolded him. The world seemed to have fragmented into crude, unidentifiable pieces and the only thing that made sense was the illogical, immaterial dream that both Jimmy and he were dreaming together at this very moment.

Thomas wasn't used to good things coming his way. He normally had to fight for them and they usually carried the aftertaste of being acquired by force. He fought for Jimmy too; but little good did that do – it was Jimmy who then somehow came to him on his own.

Thomas lazily opened his eyes and looked at the clock on his bedside table. _S'ppose it's late enough,_ he assessed; he'd been listening for any noises in the hallway for some time, and since all appeared to have stilled, he felt now was as good a time as any if they were still planning on setting their plan in motion.

He looked at the head of golden hair in front of him and smiled before pressing a light kiss on Jimmy's neck.

"Jimmy," he whispered.

Jimmy made a little grunting noise and shifted a bit. "Mmm?"

"Are we still going? Your secret passage..."

"Hmm, yes," the blonde man replied sleepily and yawned; but then turned around a bit more awake and alert. "Right, the passage! Yes, let's go."

They got out of bed and straightened their clothes, and as casually as two men sneaking around in the dead of the night, they crept into the hallway. Past the men's bedrooms they made their way to the servants' staircase quietly and threw a quick look around the corner before they turned left and quietly descended down the narrow staircase that led all the way down to the ground floor.

The hallway where their bedrooms were was always lit, even at night, but the pair had to bring out Thomas's lighter as they walked down the stairs.

Jimmy felt adrenaline rushing through his veins and his heart was pounding against his chest. He glanced at Thomas and noticed that he seemed equally concerned, but there was also a mix of strong excitement framing the insecurity. It was a secret and it was forbidden – it seemed that they were both very eagerly following such paths lately.

They reached the bottom of the stairs and Jimmy slowly and carefully opened the door into the hallway.

They peered in and once they'd made sure there was no one there, they walked inside. It only took a few steps before they stopped in front of a large, old full-length mirror with ornate yet somewhat weathered gold accents.

Thomas shone their source of light on the painting of green carnations on the opposite wall behind them. "That's it, right? Your painting?"

"Yes," Jimmy nodded. "That's what I saw when I was inside."

Thomas pensively turned back to the mirror and observed it. Had it really been here all this time? A secret passage without anyone being aware of it…

"Well, go on then," he urged Jimmy and held up the lighter to illuminate the area around the mirror, while he himself cautiously looked down the hallway again.

Jimmy stepped closer, not sure where or what to take hold of. He felt around the mirror for any gaps or irregularities on the decorative wooden panels, anything that would indicate a door of sorts. To even entertain the possibility that he might have been wrong – after everything they'd risked coming down here - or that it somehow couldn't be opened from this side-

"Oh," he gasped as he felt something under his fingertips and immediately brought the other hand to his mouth to muffle the sound. "I think- I think that could be it," he whispered. "Here," Jimmy said and reached for Thomas's free hand to press it on where there was a narrow gap between the panels. Then he realised what he was doing and he felt himself blushing a little, but he didn't move his hand; he let it rest on Thomas's.

He remembered when Thomas taught him how to wind clocks. He did the same thing then as he guided Jimmy's hand with his own. Jimmy didn't let himself enjoy the moment then, but all he felt now was Thomas's pulse under his fingers.

Thomas picked up on this and observed the reflection of Jimmy's expression in the mirror in front of them; his unsteady breaths, a faint shyness his eyes.

He moved his hand along the wall with Jimmy's palm resting on it, and felt the gap too.

"Here?" he asked and traced his fingers along the narrow crevice. The excitement over finding a secret passage overpowered even the delight brought about by Jimmy's touch.

He pressed against the panel where the mirror was, but nothing happened so he applied more force, putting the lighter away and pushing with both hands against the panel.

Jimmy joined him and the two pairs of hands placed around the mirror finally sufficed to make it buckle. It opened in with a muffled creak and the men took a step back.

They stood before it, still as a statue for a moment.

"So… you didn't dream it," Thomas breathed and grinned widely as he stared into the opening before them, eyes sparkling like those of an excited child.

Jimmy felt his lips stretching into a satisfied smile.

They brought out the lighter again and sneaked in, leaving the door open just by a crack like Jimmy had done before, and they began walking up the spiral stairs to the entrance on the other side.

"Jimmy, this is amazing," Thomas's whispering voice echoed from the walls as he turned around, observing what he could see in the low light. "In front of our noses, all this time!"

Jimmy smiled widely, pleased to see him so excited.

"Don't really think it's terribly useful – not today at least…" he commented.

"It's not bad," Thomas added and smiled. "There would be places in the house where a secret passage would be more convenient, but it's enough if you need to hide from Mr Carson."

Jimmy laughed and saw the corners of Thomas's lips lift up in the dim golden light as well.

"Maybe it was built centuries ago, for the Lord or Lady of the house," Jimmy proposed with a smirk. "So they could have their lover come to them in secret."

Thomas smiled and raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Maybe the Dowager knows about it," he teased and nudged Jimmy lightly with his elbow.

They laughed quietly and locked eyes, and Jimmy felt the urge to kiss Thomas, but he refrained.

"Has this room always been a guestroom?" he asked, his white teeth still on display.

"For as long as I've been here," Thomas replied.

They came to the end of the staircase and consequently to the end of the passage. With joined forces pulled the heavy door that opened into the guest bedroom.

"There we go," Jimmy announced as they stared into the black of the Mercia, poorly lit only by the silver moonlight shining in through the window.

Thomas shook his head in disbelief, a pleased expression across his face. He went and took a closer look at the bookshelf, bringing the lighter along the edges of the 'door' and the wall where it was attached.

"Never bothered to look at it this close," he commented in a low voice. "Whoever made it put a lot of work into it," he added, impressed by the design.

Jimmy observed him without saying a word. His thoughts blurred and he lost himself in Thomas's profile and grey eyes, finally having the chance to observe him unhindered, not worrying that his gaze might last too long; not worrying that anyone might notice them and throw disapproving or suspicious looks at them.

They eventually made their short way back, deciding that it was wiser to go that way since the servants' staircase was closer. They had less chance of anyone noticing them downstairs; and even if someone did run into them on the staircase this would still be less suspicious than if two servants were caught wandering the halls of the first floor bedrooms in the middle of the night.

Before Thomas managed to reach for the 'door', Jimmy wrapped his fingers around his wrist, pulling him closer.

This unexpected move made Thomas drop the lighter and it went out.

"Jimmy!? What-"

They were stood opposite each other in darkness; Jimmy reached forward, gently feeling for the outlines of Thomas's face, and when he found them he leaned forward and pressed their mouths together.

Thomas stumbled back, his back pressed against the wall behind him and he had to grab Jimmy's arms to find balance. But his initial surprise instantly gave way to desire that matched Jimmy's; Thomas slid his hands lower on Jimmy's hips and pulled him closer, kissing him deeper while his hands traced up the sides of his back.

Jimmy took a step forward, as much as he could, and their thighs pressed together, Jimmy's own trapped between Thomas's; he rubbed himself against it, realising he was already half-hard and so was Thomas.

"Let's go back to your room," Jimmy mumbled between kisses as he gasped for air.


	12. The Cloak Of The Night

When they finally managed to remove their lips from one another and their hands to stop looking for a way under each other's clothes, they rushed up the servants' staircase; quickly and doing their best to silence their footsteps and loud breaths of excitement.

Jimmy's heart was pounding loud and his palms were sweating, both from running and from the prospect that awaited him. He wasn't sure what exactly made him so bold and forward; perhaps it was the experience of sharing a special, exciting moment; a secret. Or perhaps it was the charm of the night and how good it looked on Thomas. _God_, how handsome that man was! Before, Jimmy had never stopped to give into the occasional and scattered impulses that tempted him to properly look at Thomas, to take a second or two to appreciate him – but now that he was unhinged it was as if he had discovered a whole new world. Not only observing, but daring to do much more. How deliciously liberating it was; and the danger that came with it only made it more enticing.

Jimmy followed Thomas closely behind, grinning and feeling his racing heart that desperately wanted to escape his chest.

They got to the landing and stopped for a moment; Thomas's hand was already on the doorknob, but Jimmy prevented him from opening the door by tugging at the sleeve of hi shirt and bringing him in closer for another kiss.

Another touch, their lips and bodies pressed firmly together – just because he needed more and more before the morning would rise again and the sun would shine a light on them, exposing them to the world if they weren't careful enough. But the night was their friend and she was generously shrouding them her shadow, protecting their secrets that shouldn't need to be secrets in the first place.

Jimmy felt Thomas's fingers thread through his hair and enjoyed it for a second, but then he reluctantly pulled away.

"Let's go," he whispered against Thomas's cheek. "I want to be with you."

Thomas's eyes glistened.

"Oh, Jimmy," he sighed in awe. He struggled to understand this new version of the man in front of him. He liked it – very much – but it emerged out of a man who was so terribly different only a month ago. He understood how Jimmy must have struggled, and breaking out of the shell was nevertheless a decision that never came easy for anyone – but it was also inevitable. To know Thomas was right from the very start – that he hadn't imagined all the things he saw with Jimmy; the looks, the smiles, the fact that he didn't seem to mind when Thomas touched his shoulder in private.

However there was still a part of Thomas that was apprehensive and refused to completely give into his feelings. He had to maintain at least one little shred of apprehensiveness and alertness – just in case. Because there was more than one case where Thomas let his heart rule his head and he found himself on the losing end. After all, that was also the case with Jimmy the first time around.

Thomas slowly opened the door into the hallway, and they both grimaced when the old thing creaked. They waited for a second, listening and observing timidly; but their heartbeats and nervous breaths remained the only sounds they could hear.

Thomas went in, quietly creeping from the staircase down the hallway and pushing the door open into his room where he stopped and turned around, keeping the door open for Jimmy to join him.

Jimmy was peering around the corner all the while, waiting for Thomas to get in. Then he followed, carefully minding the old floorboards that were potentially just as inconveniently creaky as the door.

He was only a few steps from the room, Thomas already waiting, smiling and looking at him with anticipation. Jimmy made another step forward, one foot in the room, an inch from touching Thomas's hand-

"James?"

His legs instantly leaped forward, his upper half and right hand trapped in the hallway, and the lower half and left hand already in Thomas's room; actually, just enough in Thomas's room to hide the very indiscreet bulge in his trousers. His stunned eyes met Thomas's in equal amount of fear before he hesitantly turned towards where the voice came from.

"What on Earth are you doing?" Mr Carson's low, inquisitive voice asked in disbelief.

The man was standing in front of his room two doors down and fixing his stripy bathrobe. His hair was unusually disheveled – no wonder since he'd been sleeping, but Jimmy was so used to seeing him looking impeccable that it struck him as odd – however his eyes were wide awake; strict and probing.

"I-I, um…" Jimmy muttered, avoiding eye contact with the butler. He kept looking down since he was clearly blushing, thinking about his embarrassing crotch situation. Awkwardly he moved his hips a bit more into Thomas's room and pressed his right hand against the door-frame to lean against it.

"I was… uh…" He glanced into the room again, spotting the dark-haired man for a second, who was still staring at him without moving a muscle. "Tho- _Mr Barrow!_ Mr Barrow was um… not feeling well," Jimmy began, praying that his voice wouldn't betray him even though he could already feel his throat going dry.

Mr Carson's bushy eyebrows drew together suspiciously.

"What's wrong with Mr Barrow?" he asked and took a step towards Jimmy.

"No!" the blonde man raised his voice in terror and the butler shot him a look of shock over this impertinence. "No, I meant-" Jimmy repeated as calmly as he could muster. "He's fine now. He was unwell before but now he is. Fine. Now. Much better," he awkwardly and unnaturally explained.

_Just go away, god, please! Go away!_

"But why are you going into his room then?" Mr Carson demanded with an incredulous and increasingly more displeased expression. He was craning his neck towards Thomas's room in suspicion, but didn't move again to step closer.

"I was just…" Jimmy mumbled, feeling drops of cold sweat on his forehead. But then he glanced back into Thomas's bedroom and noticed a glass of water on his bedside table.

Mr Carson grunted impatiently: "Well?!"

"I was bringing him a glass of water," Jimmy blurted and reached with the hand that was not in Mr Carson's view into the room towards Thomas, pointing roughly towards the glass without actually looking; he was keeping his eyes on Mr Carson.

"What?!" the butler asked. "What glass of water? I didn't see you bring anything."

Thomas, who was still standing in the middle of the room and whom Mr Carson hadn't seen, understood what Jimmy was going for; he took two long steps towards his table, grabbed the glass and put it in Jimmy's hand.

The next second, Jimmy demonstratively brought out the hand with the glass to Mr Carson as a proof of his words.

"Here," Jimmy tested his luck and tried to smile innocently. _How can he think so clearly, didn't the old codger just wake up!?_

The older man narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "So he woke _you _up to send you down for a glass of water?"

Jimmy swallowed a lump in his throat that seemed like it would suffocate him. _You dug yourself in deep now, didn't you, you idiot!_

"I… I was still awake when he got up- I'd gone to the bathroom," he proceeded to explain, not sure where it was all coming from. "I ran into him in the hallway as he was headed there… but then I offered to go instead."

The older man grunted disapprovingly. "Well, I suppose he can't go downstairs for a glass of water himself," he mumbled sarcastically, distrust in his eyes gleaming black in the poorly lit hallway.

Jimmy suddenly remembered what card to play.

"It's his injuries," he replied compassionately. "Up and down these stairs when it's not necessary," he shook his head.

Thomas was quite well now, but the butler didn't know the exact state of it. Maybe this would still pass as an excuse; it had to! He wouldn't object to that, not to helping a recovering man - as daft as Jimmy's story was.

Mr Carson regarded him for a moment but then just gave him a long, jaded sigh.

"Alright then," he gave in, his voice softer. "I suppose we wouldn't want him to be under any _unnecessary_ strain…"

There was an uncomfortable silence between them. Jimmy swallowed and plastered a taut smile on his face; so long as the old man stood here the tension was still in the air and Jimmy couldn't steady the anxious trembling inside him.

"Well, I'll just give him that then," he said to prompt the butler to leave and waved the glass in his shaking hand. "And be off, back to my room," he announced what should come as unnecessary to point out.

The old man gave him another distrustful look, his jaw clenched – but then he turned around and walked back to his room.

Jimmy stood there for a second, looking towards the door behind which the head of gray hair disappeared. He didn't know how long he remained standing there and staring, but Thomas's hand on his own suddenly brought him back from a dazed state.

"Is he gone?" Thomas mouthed with questioning eyes.

The blonde man turned towards him and nodded absentmindedly, his face still pale.

Thomas took the glass of water out of his hand and put it back on the table, and Jimmy slowly stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

"That was bloody close," Thomas whispered under his breath and Jimmy just nodded again, still in a bit of a shock. His eyes were wide and devoid of everything, fixed somewhere on Thomas's bed.

"Are you alright?" Thomas asked and reached for his wrist.

"I have to go," Jimmy said reluctantly and sighed in disappointment. "Better make sure he hears me leave. I don't think we... _can._"

"No," Thomas added sadly, equally disheartened, and shook his head. "No, certainly not now…"

In those few seconds of silence between them they both felt it all crumbling down. It was an abrupt change; from what briefly felt like freedom, to prison bars in a blink of an eye.

"You know, for a moment I thought-" Thomas whispered, poorly concealed concern threaded through each word, but he stopped himself from finishing the sentence.

The situation bore a striking similarity to the one they'd found themselves in all that time ago. Thomas thought that maybe fear and nerves would take the better of Jimmy and that he would… that he would somehow put the blame on him. He wasn't seriously expecting this, but that tiny voice inside him planted the seed of doubt, no matter how small.

Jimmy noticed the insecurity in his eyes.

"What is it? What did you think?" he asked.

But Thomas just breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.

"Never mind," he said.

He was glad his fears were unjustified and frankly quite surprised at how Jimmy managed to get himself – and essentially both of them – out of the situation. It reminded Thomas how much he adored his mind. He felt that from now on, maybe even that annoying little voice that made him doubt everything would die out. If this wasn't proof that Jimmy was serious about it all, what was?

He knew that it was risky, not only because Jimmy had to get out immediately, but also because he still wasn't entirely convinced that his advances were always welcome now. But after what had just happened, he was fairly certain they would be.

He leaned forward, grabbed Jimmy's collar and kissed him. His hands moved to rest on Jimmy's hips and Jimmy's dug into Thomas's hair. It was a hungry kiss, but brief and fearful on both sides; they were painfully aware of the awake Mr Carson just two rooms down, and it felt like a rainstorm on their flames. Thomas muffled a moan against Jimmy's lips as Jimmy licked his lower lip.

Thomas couldn't resist it now that it wasn't a fantasy anymore, but a reality. Not now that he _could_ actually have it. He felt it overwhelming him again – the urge, the desire for Jimmy. Not only in a physical sense, but a desire to be with him, for them to be alone and free to do whatever they wanted; no probing looks, no hostile thoughts or words directed at them.

They pulled apart reluctantly and Jimmy grimaced.

"It's not fair," he whispered under his breath while he wrapped his hands around Thomas's wrists.

"I know," Thomas replied and kissed Jimmy's cheek, wishing he could change the situation. No matter how much happiness one could steal for himself when they were like Thomas or Jimmy - and they _did_ have to steal it, fight for it - happy-ever-afters didn't seem to favour their lot.

"See you in the morning," Jimmy whispered and looked up to meet Thomas's eyes once again; he needed that. Needed to see that little something that was always there, waiting for him. He couldn't quite define it, but it was something in the way Thomas looked at him and only ever him. He just needed to see that before he had to leave.

Thomas took a long breath and sighed, cursing the world and how it treated him. He knew that it would be seriously unwise to attempt anything tomorrow or any time too soon after what just happened with Mr Carson. It would only raise more suspicion.

He watched Jimmy walk across the hall and one room down to his own bedroom, both of them feeling whatever hopes they had for the night slowly wither away.

Jimmy took one look back to notice that Thomas was still following him with his eyes; they smiled at each other sadly. He made sure to close the door loud enough to alert Mr Carson that he had done as he'd said, and both Thomas and he let the lonely darkness of their bedrooms enfold them.

Neither of them could fall asleep for most of the night, or rather those few hours that were left of it.

Thomas lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, shuffling his thoughts about and considering what had happened – not only tonight, but everything to do with Jimmy in the past few days. Since the night Jimmy opened up his heart to him, since the day Thomas _had_ him; Thomas's life had never taken a more blessed turn – but at the same time, matters got ever so complicated. It didn't matter though, because it was worth it. Jimmy Kent was worth it.

As he sunk into the cold embrace of an empty bed, the burden of keeping such a life a secret came crushing down on Jimmy. Every single time, it dawned on him even more how complicated the situation he found himself in actually was and would continue to be. Hiding around and stealing little moments, worrying every single time that the price for his second of bliss with the person he loved could be prison-

_Loved_? Did he _love_ Thomas? He paused the thought for a moment and let it sink in.

It was quite silly, but he wasn't sure what love meant any more; not in _that_ sense at least.

He used to think he loved this girl, a childhood friend. Her name was Lizzie and she had long dark hair and mischievous eyes. They'd spend nearly every day together when they were children, running around in the fields, climbing trees and helping at her parents' farm where they would feed cows and sheep and then stay around to pet them.

But then Lizzie's family moved away and Jimmy was alone. He soon grew old enough to keep himself busy with other things, but he missed her still when he thought of her. They didn't keep in touch, but she was like a sister to him. It was in this way that he realized he loved her; as a sister that he never had.

That's how he knew it was different with Thomas. He couldn't say that it was _proper_ love, but Thomas was the first person that came into his life that Jimmy felt this way for. He laughed ironically, trying to imagine how empty he would feel if he never plucked up the courage to kiss Thomas. Even if they had to hide around and put on an act when other people were around, Jimmy didn't think it was in vain.

He tried closing his eyes but all he saw when he did was Thomas. A desire rose in him that had not yet been quenched and he knew he wouldn't get a wink of sleep if he tried to evade it.

He imagined Thomas's lips on his own, his hands running up and down his back, his hands-

Jimmy reached down and touched himself, imagining it was Thomas touching him. As embarrassed as he knew he would feel upon seeing Thomas in the morning, the night had its way of making everything seem possible, everything seem sensible.

He rubbed his hand up and down his erection and brought himself off, whispering Thomas's name into the cold night air as he came.


	13. The Boot Room

It had been an interesting start of the day for Jimmy. As he was getting ready in the morning, a thought occurred to him and had since then refused to leave. It was a bold and daring thought, a reckless one and such that had the potential to bring with itself some pretty grave consequences.

Jimmy had had his share of stupid, audacious ideas in his lifetime; from childish dares to simply testing the limits sometimes – but there was a difference with this one.

Firstly, it wasn't just a daring idea for the sake of it – there was a very clear objective to it. And secondly, it had the potential to be so ridiculously simple in its presumed complexity that it was turning into something quite feasible in Jimmy's eyes.

It was so lucrative that Jimmy was becoming more and more obsessed with it as the day went on, fearing that he was going to lose his mind over it. He hardly recognised himself anymore; he felt himself becoming terribly attached to what he had recently discovered, so afraid of losing it and in desperate need to explore everything he could, as fast as he could. There was no time to waste because there was so much to unfold, so much that had waited for him for too long and couldn't be held back anymore.

Jimmy was consumed with his thoughts at breakfast, so much so that he hardly heard anything the rest of the servants were talking about – at least not until Mr Carson asked Thomas how he was feeling today and all the heads turned towards the under-butler.

It wasn't an odd question - far from it. The staff had been asking Thomas about his well-being ever since the accident, thought admittedly it was generally understood that Thomas was much better these days.

But Jimmy's palms were sweating nonetheless because he knew the full story behind Mr Carson's question. Even though it didn't directly concern him and he didn't have to say a word, he still sat stiffly in his seat opposite Thomas, sipping his tea anxiously, glancing now over the rim of his cup now at Thomas and now at Mr Carson.

Thomas answered the question very smoothly and casually, and there seemed to be no suspicion from anyone. He avoided details involving Jimmy, which Jimmy appreciated tremendously and he suspected that Mr Carson did too, being a man who disliked scandal and everything out of the ordinary, such as catching one footman entering the room of another in the middle of the night.

Jimmy eventually relaxed and took another sip of his tea. He used this time when he could let his mind wander to return to his thought.

But unfortunately, right after the upststairs breakfast Mr Carson didn't hesitate to task Jimmy and Alfred with polishing a mountain of silverware, and Thomas was ordered to tend to some other matters.

As Jimmy sat at the table in the servants' hall and performed his job automatically, his mind was fixed on finishing the task as quickly as possible and then immediately finding Thomas.

In the meantime he continued to consider his idea, fine-tune it and shape it to the point where it seemed like he'd come up with a perfectly reasonable plan. The timing couldn't be more perfect and the circumstances were as much in their favour as they could only ever hope… _You're mad, you've lost it, _he scolded himself in his mind. But time was running out and if he was going to say anything to Thomas, he had to do it as soon as possible. Tomorrow would be too late.

"Well?" Alfred repeated his question with a hint of annoyance in his tone.

Jimmy blinked at him and forced himself to listen.

"Hmm?"

The other man sighed. "Never mind," he grunted and focused on polishing a small silver dish in his hands. "You've been distracted all morning. Just make sure you don't gawk at Mr Carson like that when _he_ speaks to you."

This made sure that he now had Jimmy's full attention.

"Distracted? What d' you mean 'distracted'?"

Alfred shrugged. The statement carried far less weight for him than it did for Jimmy.

"Nothing, you're just not _here, _are you?" he replied. "You've been acting a bit strange ever since that thing at the fair with Mr Ba-"

"Nothing happened at the fair," Jimmy rapidly hissed back as if trying to predict what Alfred was going to either ask or assume next. Whatever it was, Jimmy found it best to nip it in the bud.

"I'm not acting any kind of strange – now, would you just get back to work before Mr Carson sees us and brings out even more of this stuff!" he asserted and gestured towards the huge pile of cutlery, silver dishes, plates and candlesticks in front of them. "I swear, every time we do this he conjures up more than there was the last time."

Alfred looked at Jimmy in a mixture of surprised and stunned. He didn't expect such a zealous reply and an off-topic comment about silverware, but he couldn't disagree. It did often seem like the Crawleys had an infinite amount of it, at least when the time came to polish it all.

"Whatever you say…" Alfred murmured under his breath and focused back on his dish.

They were finishing up the work right before lunchtime and Jimmy could finally snatch a moment to locate Thomas and try to speak to him in private.

There was some hustle and bustle to be heard from the kitchen, and the servants' hall was somewhat busy now too; Anna and Miss O'Brien were sitting by the table, the first one mending a dress and the other one sewing on a button on Lady Grantham's coat, and Mr Bates was there too, cleaning his Lordship's hats.

When he couldn't find Thomas neither in the servants' hall nor anywhere in the kitchen, Jimmy peered out into the courtyard, expecting to maybe find him smoking somewhere by the wall, but he only saw two hall boys there. Just as he was about to head upstairs to see if he happened to already be in the dining room, he noticed a head of black hair in the boot room, leaning over a pair of shoes he was polishing.

Jimmy opened the door that was only opened a crack, and as Thomas noticed him he looked up. The blonde man carefully looked to his left and right, up and down the hall, before stepping into the boot room and closing the door behind him. He leaned against it, muffling the sounds that were coming from the kitchen and from the servants' hall.

_God, it's insane… You're out of your mind, _Jimmy thought.

"I have to ask you something," he said directly, ignoring his inner risk-avoidant voice.

Thomas put the shoe he was polishing down on the table and gave Jimmy a curious look.

"What is it?"

"Lady Edith is returning tomorrow, isn't she?"

Thomas gave him a nod and stood up.

"Lord Grantham mentioned she's coming back tomorrow afternoon." he replied, taking a few steps closer towards Jimmy.

Jimmy nodded and began wringing his hands more and more nervously, looking down at the pair of shoes Thomas left on the table.

"So with her gone, the part of the house where the Mercia bedroom is is practically empty… until tomorrow," he said in a measured voice, the only part of him that wasn't directly exposing his anxiousness.

Thomas tilted his head to the side and shot him a suspicious and alarmed look.

"And we know a secret passage-" Jimmy went on very quietly, almost as if listing things to himself aloud.

"You can't be implying what I think you're implying," Thomas cut him off in disbelief.

Jimmy said nothing but looked at him with that little twinkle of mischief that Thomas came to know too well.

"No," the dark-haired man asserted.

"Just listen," Jimmy implored him. "I've been thinking about it all morning and it couldn't be more perfect-"

"No," Thomas repeated and stepped even closer, lowering his voice. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked in disbelief, looking at him as if trying to discern if he was coming down with something.

"I'm fine," Jimmy grunted and pressed his back firmly against the door. "I only want us to get some privacy-"

"And you think I don't?" Thomas cut in, passion and yearning quietly seeping through his voice. "Jimmy, some days I still have doubts whether this is really happening. If you really want-"

Jimmy shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Of course I do, Thomas," he said fervently.

"But that's not how we're going to get our privacy," the other man insisted. "Hiding around in our bedrooms is one thing. If they catch us there, we'll _only_ get sacked," Thomas said cynically. "But if they catch us in a _guest bedroom_, they'll fire us _and_ skin us alive, Jimmy!"

"Don't you think I've thought about the consequences? I've been racking my brains with this all morning," Jimmy fought back. "But they won't catch us, we'll take the passage, no one will know-"

"And the room?!" Thomas cut him off. "If you're planning on us _being_ there, then how are we going to-"

They both fell silent. There was a sound of footsteps passing by in the hallway, reminding them that this was far from a private place.

Thomas observed Jimmy and felt an intense conflict inside himself; Jimmy truly did want to be with him, he was saying it – and he was willing to risk practically everything for it, his job and reputation. And then there was the whole nature of this ludicrous plan; not to mention that what they were planning to do was illegal as such, but add to that sneaking into their employers' guest bedroom…

Yet despite all of this, Thomas could hardly pretend that the idea didn't make him want to plunge mindlessly into it. He grimaced at his own irrationality for actually considering it, but the more he toyed with it in his mind, the less ridiculous it was becoming – as is usually the ironic case with all crazy things.

At that moment, Jimmy's eyes met Thomas's with determination.

"I just want to be with you," Jimmy whispered so quietly it was almost inaudible. "At least once without having to be scared of creaking doors that could give us away. This could be our only chance, the best opportunity we'll ever get!"

"What made you change your mind?" Thomas asked and was met by Jimmy's slightly confused expression. "That you're so sure about it now?" Thomas elaborated.

Jimmy took a moment to gather his thoughts.

"I realised we don't have options," he slowly went on and found Thomas's eyes again to reinforce his words. "We have to use every chance, don't we?"

Thomas sighed and dropped his head.

"Because," Jimmy continued and reached for Thomas's chin, gently lifting his head up to look at him as he spoke. "I realised that whatever we may have, we'll never be able to be like the rest of them. You know what I've been thinking about ever since I kissed you?" he asked with an unguarded expression. "How we'll never get our little cottage like Anna and Bates. Never have people smile at us when they see us together and wish us well."

Thomas felt Jimmy's words burn like salt on open wounds.

"But when I think of how you fought for your happiness... I admire that." Jimmy said candidly, the relationship between the two of them only months ago in his mind. "Why stop now?"

Thomas sighed, stroking his forehead. His opposing to the idea was further swayed by how passionate Jimmy was about it. They _will_ never get a life like most people do. They'll always have to look for opportunities, fight for things like love; things that should be allowed to everyone.

"I had nothing to lose when I kissed you," Thomas said. "Well, nothing that _really_ mattered. I had my job, but even if I had to leave without a reference I could live with that. I'd manage somehow. And I could lose your friendship - which I s'ppose I did," he laughed at himself ironically and then once again assumed the serious tone he was speaking in. "I tried reading the signs and I misread them. But the pain of you hating me still fades in comparison to-" his voice broke and he hat to take a deep breath to open up his heart fully. "-to losing you know, knowing that you feel the same, Jimmy, because... I don't know how I'd survive if I lost you now."

Jimmy just stared at him his mouth slightly open in awe. He had never been more touched by someone's words. He reached for Thomas's hand and intertwined their fingers.

"Thomas, I'm not going anywhere," he assured him. "I promised you that, and I mean it. If we're going, we're going together - but we aren't though."

The dark-haired man smiled at him blissfully. Jimmy Kent was his world; as simple as that, he was everything to him.

He thought about Jimmy's plan again; despite the obvious dangers the guest bedroom did have its positives. It was far away from everyone - the staff and the family – and they did indeed have a secret passage to get there…

"Even if we _could_ get in and out without anyone seeing us," Thomas reluctantly expressed his thoughts. "We would have to get everything back in order the way it was-"

"Well, we can make a bed, can't we?" Jimmy insisted.

"And get back before everyone woke up-"

"We set an alarm really early-"

"_If_ we'd be seriously considering it," Thomas raised his eyebrows. "We'd have to plan it carefully, Jimmy-"

"We will," the blonde man replied and smiled. "We have most of it planned, but we'll sort out all the little details in the evening and then go," he added, a spark in his eyes returning because he knew that Thomas was slowly warming up to the idea.

He looked down between them, just realising how close they stood, and suddenly he became aware of Thomas's proximity and felt the air between them becoming thick.

"So… can I come to you then?" he asked in a low voice, looking at Thomas's chest. He instinctively leaned away from the door and forward ever so slightly.

Thomas took a moment to set aside their plan and take in what was in front of him; Jimmy's passionate words, his excited expression, the coy little smirk, his tight-fitting white shirt, the bowtie around his neck hiding the smooth golden skin Thomas remembered kissing yesterday.

"Hmm, maybe," he hummed and leaned in closer as well. He knew it wasn't wise, but they were so rarely alone during the day, so rarely in a situation where they could maybe dare – and now that he knew that Jimmy wanted the same, Thomas felt it like an invitation to dare.

"D' you know how fine you look when you're excited?" he whispered against Jimmy's ear.

Jimmy's stomach dropped as a rush of desire jolted through him. He kept his eyes on Thomas's profile, a mix of anticipation and timidness shrouding his own expression.

He turned his head slightly to his left so that he was facing Thomas. As their eyes met, they both leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

None of them had the courage to hold the kiss for longer than a second, but it felt like a second of long-overdue bliss. It threatened to reignite the fire that had been forced to go out yesterday.

They pulled apart slowly and opened their eyes. Thomas's pupils were so large that his grey eyes appeared almost completely black. Jimmy realised, staring into them, completely mesmerized, how each kiss and each touch now felt more natural than the previous one. It felt how it should – just like Thomas had said – it felt more right than anything ever had.

Jimmy was acutely aware of the door behind him – the thin slab of wood separating the other staff members from witnessing this 'impropriety'. While it did make him quite nervous that someone could walk in on them any second, it also made him feel daring and filled him with adrenaline.

"So – is that a 'yes' then?" he asked and licked his lips.

Thomas smiled for a split second, but as he took a step back his once again serious expression revealed that he was still not fully convinced.

"It's _very_ dangerous-"

"So was last night," Jimmy wanted to protest. "And the night before. And every single time we decide to… _see_ each other in one of our bedrooms. Or even just like this."

Thomas was no stranger to keeping every single relationship or a dalliance he'd ever had a secret, and he understood how much of a risk it normally was. But he realised that Jimmy can't have been used to this – not to such an extent at least, or used to the repercussions that followed, had the secret been exposed.

"_I'll_ come to _you_ first so we can sort things out."

"No," Jimmy objected. "No, better not. Because of… _you know_. They'll get more inquisitive if they see you leaving my room."

Remembering how unfortunately the last time he was leaving Jimmy's room ended, Thomas nodded, already altering the plan in his mind – but Jimmy beat him to it.

"You know where we could go without anybody knowing we're there," the blonde man suggested. "We meet at the servants' staircase, take the passage and go to the room. We can figure out the little details when we're there…"

"You're really eager aren't you," Thomas smiled incredulously, quite impressed with Jimmy. As much as he wished he had something better in mind, their options truly were limited. "Looks like we have no better alternatives…" he was forced to admit.

The left corner of Jimmy's mouth lifted upwards, but then immediately dropped down in sudden surprise as the door behind him was pushed open.

He staggered forward and Thomas too made a long, hasty step back, creating as much distance as he could between Jimmy and himself. They both stared at the door, frightened like two deer in front of headlights.

"Oh, sorry," Mr Bates said surprised, standing there with his hand on the doorknob as he stared at the pair almost as awkwardly as they were looking back at him.

"'S alright," Jimmy heard himself mutter and lower his head.

_It's fine, he didn't see anything… he doesn't suspect anything. He _won't_ suspect anything!_

"I was um- just leaving," he added, looking down and avoiding Mr Bates's questioning eyes.

He walked past the valet and out of the boot room without daring to do as little as glance back towards Thomas.

_Idiot, _he grunted to himself.

This fall back to reality made him reconsider whether their plan for tonight was truly as safe as he made himself and Thomas believe. It almost gave an illusion of being well thought-out – but in reality, nothing ever goes as smoothly as one hopes.

Jimmy headed up the stairs to the dining room, quite happy nonetheless. He touched his lips, feeling the ghost of Thomas's kiss on them and smiling coyly at their little secret.


	14. Mercia

_This is madness,_ Thomas thought as he walked down the last flight of stairs and saw Jimmy's silhouette at the bottom of the servants' staircase, already waiting for him.

They were both wearing their liveries, knowing that if they really went through with their plan it would be best if they were fully dressed in the morning rather than having to risk being spotted in their pyjamas. In their liveries they at least had a tiny bit of leeway for coming up with an excuse as to what they're doing here if somebody caught them.

As he approached, Thomas was able to discern through darkness that the blonde man gave him a smile; but Thomas could see that he was at least as nervous as he was himself.

"Wasn't sure you'd come," Jimmy whispered into the almost complete darkness that surrounded them, visibly relieved.

"And leave you alone with your daft plan?" Thomas's expression took on a smug smile. "What if you need saving again?"

"Maybe this time we can turn the tables," Jimmy smirked back. "Maybe _I'll_ have to save _you_."

They both knew what they were risking with this escapade, but approaching it with humour helped ease the tension and made them forget for a moment about everything that was at stake.

They snuck in through the passage and quickly and quietly all the way up the narrow spiral stairs to the bedroom.

Thomas carefully closed the bookshelf-door behind them and Jimmy watched as the streak of darkness that was coming into the slightly brighter bedroom began thinning until it disappeared at last.

The room somehow seemed even quieter now that they were alone and cut off from the rest of the world. It was dark, although lightly illuminated by the faint silver rays of the moonlight coming in through the window. They were shining directly onto the bed, accentuating the dark wooden frame, white covers and pillows that looked like they were as soft as clouds.

Jimmy turned around just as Thomas plunged into a kiss, and even though he was rather caught off guard Jimmy kissed him back with equal force. He ran his tongue over Thomas's lower lip and felt a thin scar; a consequence of Thomas's fight at the fair.

"God," Thomas whispered as they pulled apart, still cupping Jimmy's face. "We're really doing this, aren't we?"

Jimmy couldn't see anything except for two gleaming black diamonds that were Thomas's eyes.

"Well, we're here…" he managed to utter, completely distracted by Thomas's frame and the heat radiating from his body, beckoning him to hold him closer. He noticed Thomas's smile as the moonlight illuminated his white teeth.

"Right," the dark-haired man said and reluctantly let go of Jimmy.

He walked over to the bedside table and turned on the little lamp that was on it. This way they could at least see most of the room in the golden dim light.

"I say we best put a chair under the door," Thomas said and gestured towards one by the dressing table. "Since we can't lock it."

Jimmy nodded and already made his was to grab the chair and move to do as Thomas suggested.

"And we shouldn't touch anything," the black-haired man added. "Nothing we don't have to, at least…"

Jimmy had placed the chair where it needed to be. He returned and stopped on the opposite side of the bed from Thomas, reaching into his pocket.

"And I brought this," he said. "So we'll know to get out on time," he commented as he pulled out his pocket watch. "I don't think I'll sleep a wink though," he added but a second later realised how lustful that sounded. "Not because- I didn't- it's just because we're _here_ and all! I'd be too nervous to sleep…" he struggled to save himself from the embarrassment that already reflected on his flushed face.

Thomas smiled softly. "I know what you mean…" he said.

He didn't expect he could sleep either, given the circumstances they brought upon themselves. But one sleepless night was a small price to pay if he got to spend it with Jimmy. Even if they didn't do anything, even if he could just hold him in his arms. They were risking everything for seemingly so little - but that little was still more than everything in Thomas's eyes.

Jimmy set the watch on the table on his end, He followed Thomas with his eyes as the other man circled around to Jimmy's side, his expression pensive.

"Well, guess there's not really much more to it," the black-haired man commented, his gaze falling from Jimmy onto the bed. "Just have to remember how the bed's made so we can put it all back to how it is now."

"All the pillows over there; two large ones, then the small decorative ones," Jimmy tried to memorize it aloud as he ran his fingers over the soft little blue decorative cushion.

The entire room was decorated in light blue tones; from the pillows and bedspreads to the walls and even to the embroidery on the curtains.

It was so quiet. Jimmy normally disliked that, but at this moment he wanted nothing else than to be alone with Thomas in a silent room. Just the two of them. How wonderful it was to have proper privacy! To be completely free after a long day of bowing down 'yes, m'Lord,' or 'right away, Mr Carson'. To not have to worry about standing too close to Thomas or even about kissing him. They could do anything, anything they wanted! Even if it was only for one night, it was worth the risk.

He could feel it – the anticipation rising inside him. Everything was out of place – the two of them, in this room, this entire plan – and yet all the fear and insecurity were slowly ebbing away because when Jimmy looked at Thomas he knew that there was no other person under the sun he'd rather be with.

"I guess it shouldn't be too difficult," Thomas continued to comment about the bed. "We'll have to straighten them properly, sheets and all-"

"Are we going to spend the entire night talking about bedspreads or are you going to kiss me?" Jimmy blurted out, surprising himself in equal measure as Thomas. But he couldn't let another moment go wasted.

Thomas's eyes widened in unexpected amazement, but the corners of his lips lifted up right away.

"Hmm, since you're askin'…"

He moved closer and rested his hands on Jimmy's hip, slowly moving his fingers upwards to trace the outlines of his body.

Jimmy let him, savouring the touch.

They leaned in for a kiss – slow and soft, despite the anticipation they both felt.

Jimmy wrapped his hands around Thomas's back, trying to pull him closer. He leaned his head in the area between Thomas's neck and shoulders.

Thomas left a long sensual kiss behind his ear and pulled them flush together.

"Hnn," Jimmy moaned quietly, his eyes falling closed at the sensation, and he let his fingers thread through the other man's hair as he felt Thomas's do the same.

A row of kisses followed a bit lower on Jimmy's neck and lulled him into a place that was neither reality nor a dream – but rather somewhere in the middle. Physically here, but mentally far, far away and free.

Entangled together, they dropped down onto the bed, sat side by side. As they moved into another kiss Thomas ran his warm palm down Jimmy's torso.

Jimmy breathed at the touch and dug his fingers into Thomas's arms, feeling his stomach drop with irrepressible desire. He felt his body responding to everything Thomas did and he was getting harder by the second. Completely unable to control himself now, when only weeks ago he would never _dare_ to dream of anything quite like this.

"Can we take this off?" Thomas asked breathlessly into a kiss about Jimmy's livery. He was already untying his own bow tie.

Jimmy swallowed but nodded.

"Y-you too," he added.

They reluctantly leaned away from each other and began unbuttoning their liveries. Thomas was quick to get his waistcoat and shirt off and throw them down by the bed.

Jimmy's mind became hazy at the sight in front of him. He gulped and a hot wave of desire washed over him as he observed half-naked man sitting opposite him. Staring at Thomas's bare skin for the first time, Jimmy was taken by surprise at just how arousing he found the mere sight of Thomas's broad chest and muscles illuminated by the amber light.

He remembered to focus back on his own livery, feeling once again that conflicting mixture of fear and desire which made it hard for him to think clearly.

"May I?" Thomas asked after a few moments when Jimmy was still fumbling with one of his shirt buttons, his hands visibly shaking and struggling to unfasten it.

Jimmy breathed out a nervous laugh and nodded.

Thomas's fingers expertly tackled the next button, and as he undid it he left a gentle kiss on Jimmy's skin above it. He continued to do so with each next one; he unbuttoned it and kissed the inch of the golden skin which he had just exposed.

Jimmy stared with lips slightly parted, wondering whether Thomas could feel his wild heartbeat under his lips. He observed, almost as if he were in a trance, the head of black hair and those dark grey eyes that looked up every now and again to meet Jimmy's own and seek affirmation that what he was doing was alright. God, it was _more_ than alright!

Much too quickly the buttons ran out and Jimmy was sitting there with his shirt unbuttoned but still on.

Thomas felt overwhelmed in equal measure as Jimmy was with him. _Jimmy... you're really here. You're here with me,_ he thought. He was still terrified that each time he didn't feel his skin under his fingers or even if he just looked away - that Jimmy was going to disappear out of this fantastical, bizarre dream.

But then the corners of Thomas's mouth suddenly lifted into a smile when a fond memory crossed his mind.

"Remember the day you got the job?" he said softly and met Jimmy's eyes.

Jimmy couldn't help but chuckle. "What?"

"I walked in on you putting on your livery," Thomas recalled the memory. "You stood in front of me with your shirt unbuttoned, just like now."

Jimmy felt his face going warm.

"I remember," he admitted, recalling how perfectly confident he was in that situation, unsuspecting of Thomas's feelings – or feelings of his own.

"I didn't even know... Not then. I mean – I just met you-"

Thomas smiled. "Well, you made my day," he commented and looked at him lovingly, taking a moment to admire him. His golden hair, perfect smile, those mischievous dark blue eyes that could become just as insecure as they were right now at the drop of a hat.

"So you liked what you saw?" Jimmy asked quietly, a hint of coyness in his voice.

_And apprehension fades away,_ thought Thomas content. He said nothing, but instead placed his hands on Jimmy's shoulders and lightly tugged at the shirt so it slid off, revealing the blonde man's naked torso.

"Very much," he whispered in response.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss on Jimmy's collarbone. His hands wrapped around Jimmy's back and Jimmy inhaled sharply as their chests touched, the skin-on-skin contact almost too intense.

"I liked what I saw," Thomas whispered against Jimmy's neck, "liked what I heard…"

His warm breath was lightly brushing against the blonde man's skin, making him shiver with anticipation.

"I love your confidence and wit," Thomas went on, leaving a kiss on his neck.

Jimmy's eyelids fell closed and he tilted his head to the side, baring the part where Thomas's lips continued to leave a trail of kisses.

"That sparkle of mischief in your eyes, and how you make me laugh," Thomas continued between each kiss. "I like how you can jump into situations without thinking."

Jimmy felt the corners of Thomas's lips dart up into a smile. He also laughed in his mind, but his body was preoccupied with focusing on all those wonderful sensations.

"And your resourcefulness to get out of those situations," Thomas's low and sultry voice added.

Jimmy just now registered he was being lowered onto the bed; _god_, it was the softest bed he had ever laid on, he thought, as his back sank into the mattress.

Thomas crawled on top of him without breaking their kiss, running his hands up and down Jimmy's bare chest, feeling the skin and the shape of his muscles under his fingertips.

Jimmy felt once again that awful jolt of insecurity, and for a second he wanted to stop everything – but then he let it wash over him and as soon as the discomfort reached its peak, it slowly subsided, giving room instead to passion that was kindling inside of him.

"Tell me if it becomes too much," Thomas said softly, laying a palm on Jimmy's cheek and then gently pressing their lips together.

Even though he tried to conceal his eagerness, his eyes couldn't tell a lie; they were dark and wide, desire consuming them.

Jimmy nodded, looking up as Thomas leaned slightly away from the kiss. He just took a moment to gaze at him; his dark hair falling over his eyes, his broad shoulders looming over Jimmy. It was something he never knew he needed. Thomas was everything he never knew he wanted – and now that he came to know it, he _wanted_ it all.

He arched up into another kiss and at the same time Thomas ground his hips down, pressing them against Jimmy's.

"_Ahh_-"

"Shh- oh, yes, Jimmy-"

Jimmy's body tensed and responded; they rocked together, caught in a rhythm of their own. Jimmy lost his sense of time and space so he had no idea how long they were entangled like this. But then it stopped and Thomas's lips moved downwards; lower down to Jimmy's jaw line, his neck, his collarbone – all while his hands traced the outlines of Jimmy's upper body.

"_Hhm_-"

Jimmy's eyes slid closed as Thomas's head moved lower. His lips placed a warm kiss on Jimmy's nipple which made the blonde man hum a soft, satisfied moan. One of Thomas's hands ran down his chest while his mouth continued to leave a trail of kisses lower still; one on Jimmy's navel and then two just slightly under it – and then he stopped.

Jimmy's eyes flew open. He was getting lost in those kisses but now he found himself timidly staring down at the man between his legs.

Neither of them said anything, but Thomas's eyes were asking if he should continue, asking for permission to kiss and touch where Jimmy most wanted to be kissed and touched.

Thomas was determined to refrain this time, to contain his eagerness because he promised Jimmy that he wouldn't do anything that made him uneasy or take things too fast. It wouldn't be like the first time.

Jimmy gave him the smallest of nods, at first unsure if he maybe only nodded in his head, but the other man apparently registered it too.

Thomas broke eye contact and his head dropped lower, leaving a fervent kiss – and then another one and another one – on Jimmy's erection. There was still fabric between his skin and Thomas's lips, but Jimmy was already coming undone at the thought of what he knew would follow.

"Yes, _that_\- do that again," he whispered lowly as he felt Thomas pulling down his trousers and he reached down as well to get himself out of the rest of his clothes.

Jimmy inhaled sharply, letting himself drown in pleasure, focusing on every movement of Thomas's lips and tongue on him as Thomas took him in.

He dug one of his hands into the sheets and the other one in Thomas's hair, twisting both, hardly able to control his hips that insatiably tried to push upwards. His body was tense and overwhelmed with feelings unlike anything he had ever experienced before. He remembered the first time they did this and how fear prevented him from fully enjoying it – but there was no fear this time around, and he let the pleasure envelop him. The closer he got the more it seemed as if he was loosing the ability to form sentences.

"Th- _ahh_, Thomas-" he moaned, remembering to cover his mouth and muffle the sounds that were so difficult not to make.

Thomas felt Jimmy's hard-on throbbing in his mouth and he elegantly switched to his hand. He looked up at Jimmy's face, constricted in pleasure. _God, I love you,_ he thought ardently and his hand continued to move up and down Jimmy's erection only seconds more until he came.

While Jimmy was slowly coming back from the ecstasy, Thomas settled himself by his side, feeling the warmth from Jimmy's body against his own skin.

_I get to love you_ – the thought passed his mind and his face beamed up as he lay there, observing a head of gold disheveled hair, Jimmy's parted, panting mouth, brows still loosely knitted together and eyes still closed. _I get to love you._

Moments later Jimmy finally regained his senses and became aware of Thomas's figure lying beside him. Instantly he reached down, blindly searching for Thomas's hand and as he found it he squeezed it tight, feeling Thomas's fingers entangle with his own.

He turned to his side and his lips crashed against Thomas's unexpectedly. Jimmy tried to pour into the kiss all the love and bliss he was feeling right now; all the love he never imagined he could feel for a man– for anyone.

But then he felt Thomas's hard-on pressing against his thigh - even though it did startle him at first, he boldly reached down to touch him without moving away from the kiss, not really thinking what he was doing.

Thomas inhaled a sharp breath.

"Jimmy…" he whispered, breaking the kiss with his gasp and digging his fingers in Jimmy's arm.

"I don't think I can do it like you did," the blonde man admitted. "But I want to do _this_."

Jimmy's hand bravely found its way inside Thomas's trousers and brushed against the skin of his cock, forcing a desperate moan out of Thomas's throat while his hips jerked forward. Jimmy wrapped his fingers around it and began moving his hand.

It was not an entirely foreign feeling – unsurprisingly. He _wanted_ to do it and he knew what to do, but seeing Thomas coming undone at the touch of his hand was both incredibly overwhelming and quite intimidating.

He couldn't really force himself to look down – that was too much – so instead he focused on Thomas's face, on his closed eyes, brows knitted in concentration, and his red parted lips as his breaths were coming in sharper and faster draws.

Jimmy increased the speed of his hand movements and leaned forward to kiss Thomas's neck fervently, feeling how eagerly the other man's fingers dug into his hair in response.

"_Ah_\- god, Jimmy-" Thomas hissed through his teeth and pressed his hand against his mouth as he came.


	15. Awake

They had loved each other; Thomas loved him and Jimmy loved him back, and eventually they ended up in a serene bliss, entangled together in one single, seemingly inseparable cluster of limbs, with only a crisp white bedspread loosely covering their naked bodies.

For a while this reality seemed utterly intangible to Thomas. He couldn't quite discern whether it was all just a figment of his imagination or if it was indeed real. It was one of those cases where an impossible dream keeps reaching for manifestation, in vain it appears – but then unexpectedly, reality makes a step towards the dream and they touch and merge together, the real world breathing life into fantasy.

A nearly complete silence pervaded the bedroom; all that could be heard were their low breaths and the ticks of the pocket watch on the nightstand. Thomas steadied his breathing so that he could only hear Jimmy's – this way he felt assured that he was truly there beside him. He had to keep Jimmy's skin under his fingertips constantly, because he feared that if he let him go, everything would fade away. He couldn't even tear his eyes away, despite the only thing he could see being the back of Jimmy's head and the nape of his neck. He was afraid that he would do as little as blink and suddenly be plunged back into a parallel universe without Jimmy by his side.

The room was dimly lit, but the light enhanced the gold in the blonde man's hair, and Thomas curled himself closer still, breathing in the faint scent of Jimmy's skin; a scent that was so distinctly and unmistakably simply Jimmy.

Lying here like this, Thomas felt perfectly at peace; but he was so worn out and now the adrenaline of preparing for and following through with this secret encounter was wearing off. His eyelids felt heavy, tired and yearning to be closed. It seemed as if he was nearing sleep with every second that passed; just like the last time they were together, lying in Thomas's bed in an embrace.

But this was infinitely better – Thomas's chest pressed against the bare skin of Jimmy's back, the low rising and falling of Jimmy's chest with each of his breaths; his warm and slightly sweaty skin pressed against Thomas's own.

_You're here with me,_ Thomas thought blissfully and finally found enough faith to close his eyes - this way he could better focus on Jimmy's heartbeat, which he could feel against his own chest. _You're really here. You're not going anywhere, not for the next few hours at least. You _want_ to be here with me._

It had been so long, Thomas thought, since he held a man close like this. So long since he last wrapped his arms around someone he loved. Someone who loved him back-

He didn't know whether Jimmy's feelings were mutual, but he did feel something- That same _something_ that drove him away from Thomas once before now brought him back to him. Thomas was no stranger to this _something_. He'd seen it before. It was a powerful thing; it could break people apart and cause wrath and ruin if fear guided it – yet if it triumphed over fear and was allowed to flourish, it could grow into a much stronger force which did the opposite of the former – this one united.

Despite fearing that fear had definitively driven Jimmy away, he came back. He _chose_ to be here, he wanted to be here _with_ Thomas; and this was more than Thomas could ask for. It was all that mattered in this moment and he didn't want to think about the future or any other pesky details of their everyday. He shoved the thoughts of all that aside; of the moment when they would have to deal with getting out of this soft and warm bed and erasing every trace of them having been here. Here, where neither of them was supposed to be, least of all both of them together-

_God, Carson would go 'round the bend,_ Thomas thought – the only thing containing his laughter was the equally present fear of how the tables would turn if anyone _did_ find out what Jimmy and he had done.

No. For now, Thomas couldn't bring himself to think of letting go of Jimmy and going back to his everyday, pretending that nothing significant happened in his life – in both their lives.

He wrapped his arms tighter around Jimmy, as if he wanted to reaffirm his grasp on this fleeting and fragile reality, and he pressed a kiss on a spot on his shoulder.

Jimmy was lying on his side, half asleep. His eyelids were heavy and despite vowing to himself not to close his eyes tonight, at this moment he was very tempted to drift into sleep.

His body was tired, but Jimmy felt strangely awake despite it; he was completely overwhelmed in every other sense imaginable. His heart was brimming with new and confusing emotions, his mind was saturated with images and thoughts of and about everything that happened in the last few days. Jimmy's skin was craving for touch like never before – for Thomas's touch.

He felt one of Thomas's arms loosening its embrace and then his fingers replaced the spot where his hand previously rested; they gently began running up and down Jimmy's upper back, drawing little circles and shapes on his skin.

_Hmmm…_ These little motions, Jimmy thought drowsily, could lull him to sleep any second. But-

"I'm not sleeping," he murmured against the pillow under his head.

Thomas made a sound that most resembled a breathy smile.

"What?"

"If you thought I was – I said I wouldn't fall asleep and I won't," Jimmy explained.

He turned around to face Thomas, albeit somewhat reluctantly because this meant that Thomas's fingers were forced to stop doing what they were doing.

It was like the aftermath of a storm in Jimmy's mind. Lightning had been flashing across the sky, the wind had swept around everything in its path, branches broken off trees were lying about, rivers were swollen. Everything was a mess, but somehow it made sense. Jimmy felt like he'd been asleep all his life and now he was finally truly awake. The sun on the horizon was the same sun that was shining in Thomas's eyes; those eyes that were looking back at Jimmy so lovingly right now. Nobody had ever looked at him this way. There was devotion and love and awe, and so much more that Jimmy couldn't pin down. It was all a reassurance.

After the insane whirlpool that Jimmy's life had become recently, it was impossible to deny what kept him here.

"I don't want to sleep," Jimmy said, looking into Thomas's eyes. He reached for Thomas's hand to lace their fingers together. "Because if this is reality, I don't want to miss a single second of it. I'm not afraid anymore, Thomas."

However beautiful it may have been at the moment, reality also entailed the inevitable parting in a mere few hours. Of course, they did stay in the Mercia for as long as they could – or rather as long as they dared push their luck.

They made their best attempt to put everything back in place and makes sure that the bed gave away nothing that could suggest that it was slept in.

Leaving the room was the hardest part. Jimmy never imagined how much he would desire Thomas when he knew that he can't have him candidly. When they would return downstairs with everyone else and resume their duties as well as roles. He felt braver and more confident with him by his side, but there were limitations to what they had - or could have only when alone.

He suddenly felt like an actor, playing a part in a film. He was inexplicably terrified that he wouldn't know how to continue playing this role that – ironically – he'd been playing his whole life with minimal, albeit somewhat increasing difficulty.

But he was no longer the same man he was when he walked into this house – not even the same man he was mere weeks ago. He was just plain and ordinary Jimmy his whole life, and now all of a sudden this Jimmy stepped into a wonderful, yet scary new world from where it seemed he could never return.

He remembered the words that the peculiar Gypsy woman spoke to him at the fair and he reflected over just how much they resonated with him right now: _"Once you cross to the unknown, you'll find your soul more there than it was ever here before."_

* * *

Jimmy and Thomas agreed to have minimal contact this morning when they joined the others, so as to not draw attention to themselves. Over at breakfast Jimmy found it very hard to keep his eyes off Thomas, or at the very least, he struggled to look at him seldom enough and in a way that would pass under the radar as innocent and unsuspicious.

But he also noticed an odd thing about Thomas, and he couldn't quite discern when or why it started.

Thomas seemed somewhat tense the entire morning. Whenever their eyes met across the table or across the room, there was always a moment of remoteness before Jimmy got the feeling that Thomas truly _noticed_ him. His smiles were absentminded, as if he were lost in his thoughts, thinking about an important matter that gnawed at him.

He'd disappeared somewhere right after breakfast, and at first Jimmy almost entertained the possibility that _he_ was to blame and that _he_ did something wrong to cause Thomas to behave strangely.

But when the dark-haired man returned, his eyes sent a message to Jimmy – since he clearly couldn't say it aloud in front of a room full of people – Thomas wanted him to follow.

After waiting a moment and making sure no one caught on to their exchange of looks, Jimmy went after Thomas down to the wine cellar.

Initially, Jimmy thought that Thomas brought them here for a bit of private time, but it quickly became clear to him that whatever was bothering Thomas before hadn't gone away yet.

Jimmy stepped closer towards Thomas, his footsteps echoing off the damp walls of the cellar.

"Hey," he carefully spoke. His words were a mix between a question and a greeting.

Thomas looked up but didn't meet Jimmy's eyes.

"We might have a problem," he quietly said. "Well – _I_ might, at least."

He bent his elbow and lifted up his arm so that Jimmy was staring at his forearm.

The blonde man was confused at first. He didn't know what he was supposed to be looking at – but then he noticed it. One of the two ornamental brass buttons on the sleeve of Thomas's livery was missing.

"Um… you lost a button?" Jimmy asked a bit baffled, but a sense of urgency flashed in Thomas's eyes.

"The problem is – I've no idea _where_ I lost it," Thomas replied, doing his best to keep his voice steady, however Jimmy could detect the subtly rising panic in it. "I noticed it at some point before breakfast…"

Jimmy nodded and fixed his gaze on one of the wine racks on the wall as he thought about the matter. He instantly knew what Thomas was aiming at, but there was nothing certain about it.

"Well, it could have fallen off anywhere…"

"Anywhere," Thomas repeated. "Or right _there_."

"Don't you know if you still had it on when we left the room?"

"No I don't," Thomas cut him off. "It's a decorative button, you don't do it up, it hadn't even crossed my mind that-"

He paused and took a long breath.

"Alright," Jimmy said, trying to sound calming. "But don't jump to conclusions straight away-"

"I already checked in my room," Thomas began listing. His tone was full of worry and uneasiness crept in his eyes. "Briefly in the servant's hall, on the back staircase, everywhere we walked last night and in the morning-"

_So that's where you disappeared to earlier, _Jimmy figured.

"It could still be in the passage," the blonde man insisted, even though he gradually began doubting his own suggestions.

Thomas scoffed.

"And if it's not there?" he said with an immediate sense of urgency. "What then?! I can't risk it, Jimmy. What if it's _there_ and somebody goes to the bedroom and finds it? I had no business being there and I _hadn't_ been in recently. They can't exactly accuse me of anything but it's going to look suspicious and they might-"

"Calm down," Jimmy said and reached for Thomas's wrist, hoping that his touch would soothe him at least a little bit. "No one even knows it's yours-"

"Well, they do," Thomas hissed back cynically. "Carson noticed it, didn't he, Jimmy! That's what I'm trying to tell you: even if I get it mended or put on a new livery, none of it will matter because if someone finds the missing button in the bedroom, they'll know it was mine."

Jimmy felt a wave of cold shivers run down his spine.

"Right, okay, we'll go there in the evening, through the passage-"

"I can't wait that long," Thomas insisted. "And Lady Edith is returning in the afternoon, she'll be right next door to the Mercia," he argued.

Jimmy was slowly beginning to feel the rising anxiety and a strong pang of guilt. It was _his_ idea to sneak into the Mercia last night – even though he didn't regret it until now, he wished for nothing more than to turn back the time. _Thomas wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for _your_ stupid plan!_

"So what if you were there?" he tried. "Could have been winding clocks or somethin'."

"But I wasn't," Thomas replied. Now his voice sounded almost uncomfortably calm. "You know it, everyone knows it, and it'll only be a matter of time before they start suspectin' something. Might even _find_ something else if they start looking into it," he said jadedly and almost ready to laugh at the situation.

_No! No, no, no! You're not being put in this position, not because of me, _boomed in Jimmy's mind.

"You don't know _for certain_ that it's there – and even _if_ it happens to be, it's not such a grand thing to be seen from miles around. No one's going to go into the room now, we'll get it at night."

But now he was just saying words that held no weight; he didn't know where the damned thing was, he couldn't convince Thomas. because for all he knew, it could have fallen off right in the bloody bedroom. With the luck they had…

Thomas inhaled deeply and exhaled a long, heavy breath.

"Right," he nodded and leaned on one hand against the wall. "S'ppose you have a point. But if it comes to it-"

"It won't," Jimmy cut in and took two steps closer. "It won't come to anything. We'll go and find it if it's there."

"You don't have to come with me, all I need you to do is to just-"

"Of course I'm coming," Jimmy said.

He wanted to. It wasn't only the guilt; it seemed strange to let Thomas go on his own. Jimmy had let him down too many times – now it was time to change that.

"See you later then, alright?" he said and met Thomas's eyes for a brief moment.

As Jimmy turned around to leave, he felt Thomas's palm on his hand, holding him back.

"Thanks, Jimmy," the dark-haired man replied and gave Jimmy one of those unguarded smiles that were so rare but so honest and pure.

They both felt a force pulling them towards each other, and they couldn't resist it. They simultaneously leaned in into a soft kiss and then pressed their foreheads together.

"We went into this together, right?" Jimmy stated in a low voice. "You told me that I'm not going to be alone, and neither are you!"

Thomas felt pinpricks of tears in his eyes. They laced their fingers together, but only allowed themselves a second. It was never safe, and they both knew it. They had to pull apart.

A jolt of recently familiar defiance passed through Jimmy. Now that he found the strength to break through – something he never imagined possible – now he was realising more and more how hard life like this was.

In the past, if he were ever caught sharing a kiss with a maid or another servant girl he'd get scolded, certainly. But for as little as holding Thomas's hand he could risk being reported to the police, possibly even go to prison. It was an icy cold realisation that started a raging fire in his heart. He felt increasingly angry at these thoughts, yet at the same time, despair was rising in him. A sort of hopelessness over the fact that he could never fully enjoy what he was experiencing right now. A fear of losing what he'd found. It was bittersweet.

Jimmy left the wine cellar first. As he was heading down the hallway he almost bumped into Anna, who was carrying a large pile of sheets and bedspreads.

"Oh, sorry," he apologized just as he nimbly turned around and caught one of the tightly folded sheets that fell from the top of the pile in her hands. "Sure you don't need help with that?" he offered.

"It's alright," Anna smiled and reached to take the item from Jimmy's hands. "But actually, you can help me with something. Could you find Miss O'Brien and tell her to come upstairs? I know she's got nothing better to do now, and we'll be done faster with this if it's two of us. The other two maids have been given a half-day, they've gone to the village."

Jimmy nodded at her request but then furrowed his brow.

"Is someone coming over?"

Anna, already making her way towards the stairs, turned half-around.

"Yes. They just telephoned and apparently Mr Gregson is coming over with Lady Edith. Mrs Hughes ordered to prepare the Mercia."

Jimmy's face went pale.


	16. Out of Time

"Ah, Mr Barrow, come in," the butler's deep and deliberate voice greeted him.

Thomas stepped into Mr Carson's study, but with much apprehension. His muscles felt stiff, and only with great unease did they will his body to move closer towards the stern-looking man sitting in front of him.

There was a moment of silence. It seemed to Thomas that the clock on the wall behind him was ticking too slowly. Much too slowly.

The butler's eyes, which revealed nothing about what he was thinking, looked at him steadily for a second or two, evaluating him even before he had a chance to speak, or rather before he'd been given an order to reply to whatever the butler had to say. Thomas was unsure what to expect, but he had his suspicions – which may have even been a good thing – however he was expecting nothing good. Thomas was no fool; rarely had he been called to Mr Carson's study to receive a positive comment or praise.

"Are you aware of why I called you here, Mr Barrow?"

The butler's voice, much like his gaze, gave nothing away – apart for the usual sternness.

Thomas swallowed down his nerves before he could force himself to speak.

"N-no, Mr Carson," he replied, briefly glancing up, but then looked down again, keeping eye contact to the utmost minimum.

"Well then," the older man began and shifted in his chair, readjusting how he was sitting. Thomas knew he was only imagining it, but it seemed to him that as Mr Carson made himself more comfortable, his confident body language automatically enhanced the sharp contrast to Thomas's stiff and uneasy stance.

"As I've seen you missing a button this morning," Mr Carson continued. "You'll be happy to see that the exact button matching your livery was found earlier today."

Thomas felt a wave of shivers run down his spine. _O'Brien,_ he knew. They would know if Anna had been the one to find it – naturally, _she_ wouldn't have taken it straight to Carson! Miss O'Brien was excellent at connecting dots – but then again, Thomas had been going around almost the entire day with a missing button on his sleeve. He was certain that pretty much everyone had noticed by now, and he'd be willing to bet that the ladies' maid's detail-oriented eyes were one of the first ones alongside Carson to spot it.

The butler continued to sit comfortably in his seat, twirling the little decorative button in his large hands.

"But I do find myself wondering – and I'm asking you now – how come this-" he lifted the button. "-was found in one of the _guest_ bedrooms?"

If Thomas hadn't considered that there was a chance of this happening, he would have frozen completely right now. While he had hoped, hoped with every fibre of his being, that it wouldn't come to this, at least he was somewhat prepared.

"I-I'd gone to check the clock upstairs, in the Mercia," he replied, doing his best to prevent the anxiety to engulf his tone.

"Hmm," Mr Carson grunted, unconvinced, and kept twirling the little brass button in his hands. "And why exactly was that? I believe I'd ordered _James_ to wind that clock and the rest of the clocks upstairs a few days ago."

"Yes, you did," Thomas quickly nodded, finally rediscovering some courage to help him stand his ground. "But James told me that he'd had some… difficulties with the clock in the Mercia."

The pair came up with this bad-but-better-than-nothing story right after Jimmy told Thomas what he'd heard from Anna; that the bedroom was being prepared for a guest, and especially, _who_ was preparing it. Given that they had no time to stop that from taking its course, they at least had to come up with a solution in case Thomas's fears came true and certain things landed in the wrong hands.

Mr Carson's eyes darted up from the button and focused on Thomas. He seemed surprised.

"Are you saying something was wrong with the clock? Why wasn't _I_ informed? And why on earth didn't you see to it sooner if there were _difficulties_?"

The butler now seemed more interested in Thomas's story – either that or he was simply more worried that something in the house he was in charge of wasn't running as smoothly as it should be.

"Nothing was wrong," Thomas calmly explained. Now that he'd started talking, he felt the pressure of silence and cold-stares wavering. "Jimm- _James_ wound all of them, and he didn't think much of it at first. But yesterday before dinner we talked about clocks and the mechanisms, and how the one in the Mercia is older and slightly different, and when you wind it sometimes it can be a bit tricky, especially if the weather is too humid or dry…"

This much was true. It could thankfully work as an excuse, even though each of the large grandfather clocks had its own peculiarities and this wasn't really anything _that_ worthy of noting.

"That's why James asked me if I could check that nothing was off, so after dinner I-"

"Well, why would he be so baffled by it and concerned now? He wasn't winding that clock for the first time!" Mr Carson impatiently cut in.

His eyes were wide and inquisitive and his eyebrows darted up.

"N-no," Thomas sheepishly shook his head and looked down.

_Think, think!_

"But he'd told me the resistance didn't feel quite right when he wound it. Not the same as it normally did, at least. But I think it may've just been the humidity. Sometimes the springs, they can get-"

_Don't lecture him! Dig yourself out, not even deeper, you fool!_

"So, uh… There was nothing wrong. He- _we_ didn't want to bother you with it, since there was nothing to tell anyway."

There was a pause.

_It's alright, calm down; he'll believe you, stop sweating and pull yourself together!_

Mr Carson pensively nodded, then inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"Alright, Mr Barrow," he agreed, albeit reluctantly. "But how is it that you didn't notice a missing button sooner? For a man as tidy as yourself, it seems unusual that any detail would escape you."

_Well, you're not wrong about that – I should have noticed it sooner!_

"Nor had it occurred to you to check the guest bedroom _earlier_ today?" the butler's low voice asked demandingly.

Thomas was expecting this question as well, and was prepared for it. He dropped his head submissively.

"I hadn't noticed, no. And I would have checked the bedroom too, with your permission," he added sheepishly, but saw how the butler's jaw clenched in mild annoyance. "First, I wanted to make sure that it wasn't anywhere else in the house, Mr Carson. You'll understand how terribly impertinent it would be of me to just-"

"Yes, yes, alright," the old butler grunted and waved his hand in the air, gesturing Thomas to stop talking.

"However," the older men went on, leaning his elbows on the desk and interlacing his thick fingers. His voice took on a different tone. "It's been brought to my attention-"

_O'Brien's brought to your attention, no doubt!_

"That there might be more to this story. I was hoping this wasn't true, but naturally, I considered it my duty to investigate the validity of what was said to me."

_What?_ Thomas didn't quite understand. He could feel his palms, which were already sweating the entire time, now growing cold. His throat got tighter and he didn't know whether he should or could say anything; so he stood there, looking somewhat lost at a spot on the ground while Mr Carson continued his speech.

"Given a lead, I've taken the liberty to look through your bedroom earlier today…"

Thomas's face was entirely devoid of colour at this point. _He didn't find anything... there was nothing to find - unless... She wouldn't, she couldn't have! How?! _he kept thinking, but with each sentence that Mr Carson spoke, Thomas's began feeling like a helpless deer, a prey suddenly caught into a net, an invisible cage forming around him.

"I must say, I was gravely disappointed to find this," the butler concluded.

He opened the drawer of his desk and brought out a small, metal, engraved ornamental box. Thomas had a vague memory of seeing this item before in the house – but how did it make its way to his room?!

_She wouldn't' dare! WHEN? HOW? She truly was the spawn of the devil, that woman!_

Anger burst into flames inside him, but he couldn't give anything away. His body once again felt tied and glued to the spot. He swallowed, but his throat didn't clear. The noose around his neck kept tightening.

"This item's usual place is on the cupboard in the Mercia bedroom," Mr Carson continued to explain in a condescending tone. "It was a gift, given to the Fifth Earl of Grantham since before you or I even drew breath – but I suppose history matters little when one sees an ornament such as this," he went on and carefully ran his fingers over the intricate engravings on the box. There was a warning in his voice and Thomas disliked it. "When one sees a valuable thing such as this, it doesn't really matter how much it means to the family, be it sentimentally or historically – it only needs to look worth a small fortune. Enough that one could earn a lucrative sum by selling it?"

As he spoke the last sentence his tone was almost a question. He lifted one of his eyebrows curiously as he looked at Thomas.

Thomas was astonished to the point where he didn't think he could force his vocal chords to form words.

"A-are you suggesting I stole it?"

He realised exactly what Mr Carson was suggesting, and even though it sounded ludicrous to Thomas he could see that the evidence was stacked against him.

"I'm only saying that this was found in your room, and someone apparently saw you exiting the guest bedroom. Even though you have a story to explain the evidence found in the Mercia, I'm afraid the rest outweighs it."

_The devil of a woman! She pounced on that opportunity faster than greased lightning! She can hold a grudge forever that one! Doesn't quit 'till she's won!_

The dark haired man didn't know what to say. Whatever he were to say now it would be worthless because Mr Carson had 'proof' in his hands. It didn't matter that it was planted into Thomas's room – and how craftily it was done! – it didn't matter what Thomas were to say, because he couldn't defend himself without giving away the true story – and that would, no doubt, worsen the situation.

"I- I didn't steal the box. I would never steal from his Lordship-" Thomas tried, astonished at how weak the voice that came out of his mouth sounded.

Mr Carson was clearly unimpressed.

"I believe you're expecting me to forget the wine incident from some years ago."

_Fuck!_

It was almost hilarious. That damned thing coming 'round from all those years to bite him right back.

"I'd been in the guest bedroom," Thomas repeated, trying to sound calm. "But I didn't take the box."

"Are you saying it was planted?"

"Yes!"

The older man sighed, stood up and straightened his livery.

"I wish to believe you, I truly do, Mr Barrow. However, I'm afraid the evidence is against you. And given your past-"

_Bloody past, it was a bottle of wine!_

"-Things like this simply cannot be tolerated. I've turned a blind eye on many things you've done, but I'm afraid I cannot look away this time."

_He's not being serious! This can't be happening!_

"I fear I am left with no other choice but to…" He hesitated for a second. "Let you go."

The ground crumbled beneath Thomas's feet. He could see that the butler's lips continued to form some words, but everything was falling out of focus for Thomas. Silence followed and engulfed him; he could no longer hear the wall clock. He couldn't even hear his own thoughts. Everything eluded him.

_Let you go…_

The words made their point right as they were spoken, he didn't struggle to understand them; but they were losing their sense as they kept spinning around inside Thomas's head like a carousel.

Jimmy and him had come up with a plan. A plan that should have worked! This was not expected and there was no alternative to fight it. There was no getting out of this. How could she have orchestrated it so quickly? _When_ did she- _how_ did she- yes, she must have seen his livery in the morning and put two and two together, dug her claws into the chance for revenge!

But how could Thomas get himself out of this mess without dragging Jimmy down with him?! It was an inescapable trap! Thomas had already told Mr Carson one version of the story, he couldn't change it now! He'd be a liar and a thief! _Well, you're the former anyhow, and a terrible one too! Little good that story of yours has done to help!_

"So, Mr Barrow," Mr Carson's voice echoed and roused Thomas from his storm of thoughts. "Do you have a defence?"

_That conniving snake!_

Thomas's hands were tied. He couldn't tell the real reason why his button was found in the guest bedroom. It would destroy Jimmy, as well as him. And he'd be damned before he let anything bad happen to Jimmy! He had to protect him – but Thomas also realised what that meant for him...

"I didn't steal the box," he repeated.

"Right," the butler said, clearly distrustful of these words, but Thomas did detect a trace of remorse in his tone. "Unless you can prove me otherwise, I cannot be inclined to believe you. Only-,"

He stepped from behind his desk forward.

"-I would like to understand _why_, Thomas? After all these years, was it really necessary to do a stupid thing such as this?"

Thomas closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. _This can't be happening! _Everything was set against him, he couldn't win. He was walled up. He couldn't even clear his name!

"I didn't steal it, Mr Carson, you have to believe me. That's all I can say. I din't take the box, I had no reason to."

The old butler said nothing. He inspected Thomas for another second, then he sat back down in his chair.

"You'll clear out your things and leave in the morning."

* * *

"Don't! Just go back to your room," Thomas hissed as loudly as he dared, knowing that people could easily overhear their conversation.

"No chance in hell!" Jimmy rebelled. "You think I'll just stand idly by as you get sacked for something you didn't do?!"

"I tried to explain, but what d'you want me to do? Tell them the truth what I– what _we_ were doing there?"

"There must be something else we can do!"

"It's too late now, he's made up his mind. Alerted his Lordship too, no doubt."

Thomas was speaking in a jaded manner, as if he were tired of trying and worn out from fighting the strong current. He'd given up, but Jimmy hadn't. He was outraged on Thomas's behalf.

"Making you leave first thing in the morning! Without proper investigation!"

"Carson's done his investigation and found the clues O'Brien wanted him to. That's the end of the story in his mind."

"Get back at her!"

"What can I do in one night?!"

"Anything, pin something on her," Jimmy went on, his train of thought continuing fervently.

"Don't you think that would look suspicious – the accused trying to accuse the accuser?"

"Blackmail her with something then!"

Had Jimmy known of Thomas's past, especially the parts that had to do with Miss O'Brien, he would surely be even more astonished at his lack of ideas to get himself out of this mess.

But even though Thomas still had the story with her Ladyship's soap as a weapon against O'Brien, it was useless now. _She played it well,_ he thought. Put him under fire before he had a chance to fight back. Now his words against her would just sound like slander. And little good they would do too – even if they did blacken her name, Thomas still had hard evidence set against him, and only a lousy made-up story going for him.

"But _how_ did she even do it?" Jimmy wondered angrily. "She's not allowed on the men's side-"

Thomas smiled a sarcastic but sad smile.

"'Allowed' doesn't have the standard definition in O'Brien's dictionary…"

"And how did Anna not see her, they were getting the bedroom ready together!" Jimmy thought incredulously. "_When _did she manage to plant it in your room!?"

Thomas had gone through all these thoughts a hundred times already. He was getting tired and jaded.

"While we were serving dinner," he guessed. "Maybe she even got Alfred to do it..."

"Alfred! What if I pressed him and-" Jimmy wanted to suggest – but Thomas reached for his hand and took it between his own palms, gently stroking it.

_Don't bother, love. I love you even more for how you're trying, but I fear we can't win this one._

"He might not know anything, Jimmy. It's fine-"

"No, it bloody well isn't! She's making you leave like a damn liar and a thief, are you seriously going to take that?! We have to do something-"

"What am I supposed to do?"

Thomas's voice suddenly found some passion and anger, but it was hard to keep their late-night conversation at a tone that didn't threaten to wake somebody up.

"Say she's lying while all the evidence is against me? Tell the truth and drag you down with me?"

"Might as well," Jimmy spat out. "It's my fault, ain't it! All of it!"

He plopped down miserably on Thomas's bed and buried his face in his hands. O'Brien may have found the opportunity and used it, but it was Jimmy who essentially caused the landslide.

He felt so rotten inside that he couldn't even look Thomas in the eye. He felt like yelling, crying, shouting his lungs out. If only he hadn't insisted on that stupid escapade! Now Thomas's life was falling apart and it was all because of Jimmy. Everything was crumbling. The man he needed, the only person he wanted was being torn away from him.

He felt Thomas's hand on his back, stroking him gently and comfortingly, and Jimmy's anger slowly waned.

"I agreed to that night," Thomas quietly spoke and leaned in closer to Jimmy. "And I don't regret it. I don't care about leaving Downton, I just wish I didn't have to leave you."

The words cut into Jimmy's heart – it hurt like a thousand needles, but his heart was burning passionately with the love for this man next to him.

"What will you do?"

Jimmy's voice suddenly sounded so weak.

"Go to the Grantham arms for starters," Thomas shrugged. "I've enough saved up to stay there for a couple of days… At least 'til I figure it out."

He was bearing it bravely, but defeat was etched across his face.

Jimmy nodded and leaned on Thomas's shoulder, taking in the warmth from his body, breathing in his starched shirt.

"I'll write to my sister in London, maybe she can help."

"I can lend you some mon-"

"No," Thomas cut him off. "It's alright, Jimmy. I'll manage."

"But what about your reference?"

"At least they're giving me one. Won't be of much use, but still better than leaving completely empty-handed."

Even as he was saying the words, Thomas couldn't quite believe them. He'd dodged the bullet once before - a few times, in fact. Maybe this was his punishment for every single time that he'd evaded it. Maybe he even deserved this…

Jimmy looked up and placed his palm on Thomas's chest. Their eyes locked and Jimmy could see fear and sadness in Thomas's stormy grey eyes.

They both leaned into a kiss that neither of them wanted to break.

"I don't want to lose you! I _can't_ lose you now," Jimmy sobbed as they pulled apart and Thomas's hand ran through his hair.

Jimmy's words were honest, but they somehow sounded hypocritical in his ears – coming from a man who, not too long ago, was prepared to go to great lengths to get Thomas sacked. He still felt burning shame when he thought about this.

"Maybe I can find work nearby so we can see each other sometimes. We can always write to each other," Thomas tried, but knew that the former was unlikely to happen and the latter would never be enough.

"Let me stay here with you tonight," Jimmy's quiet voice begged.

Thomas exhaled a shaky breath. He wanted it, god he wished for nothing more – but there was so much at the stake. They couldn't keep pushing their luck. Things could get worse, and what if Jimmy got into trouble on top of everything!

_No, you can't allow that. You can't risk his future. Not again._

"I don't think it's wise, Jimmy. Not with everything that went on-"

"It was a courtesy question," Jimmy said determinedly. "I'm staying, I can't bear not to – if it really is the last time I'll see you. The last time I get to be with you."

"What if they see you leaving or-"

"Well that's on me. It can't get much worse for you," he said.

Thomas smiled sadly, but he knew that it _could_ get worse. For both of them.

"Jimmy, I mean it. The last thing I want is to see you walk out that door, but we-" His voice broke, but he continued, wrapping his hands tight around Jimmy's shoulder's and meeting his eyes. "-I love you. I want you to stay, but we can't keep pushing it. We're out of time."

"Not yet," Jimmy said, shaking his head, tears blurring his vision.

He leaned in and they kissed again, hungry for each other, forcefully and desperately holding onto the moment for as long as they could.


	17. Ink And Paper

_Right, start looking, for fucks sake just do it before she comes back! _Jimmy told himself anxiously as he stood in her room, surrounded by silence, and yet also by an underlying threat that every little sound could potentially mean the end of this bold endavour.

Thomas had left in the morning. Jimmy's initial plan was to go on a sort of a strike; but obviously, he couldn't just stay in his room and sulk all day long, and he couldn't afford to _not_ do his job – that would land him on the streets just the same as Thomas.

He was having a hard time coping with the fact that Thomas wasn't there anymore. It almost felt like a dream. He had no clue what Mr Carson had told the others, but no one asked any questions – at least they didn't ask Jimmy anything.

A rebellious spirit burned in him, enkindled by guilt and anger and helplessness; and maybe also something else he felt for Thomas…

He took a look back and realised how far he'd come – how far _they'd_ come – and how deep they were buried in this mess now.

Few things would have changed if Jimmy hadn't kissed Thomas a few days ago. That choice was already an inevitable consequence of previous events. Jimmy would never have admitted it up until now, but he knew; even since _before_ Thomas's kiss a year ago he knew where he was headed, and every little moment they spent together further solidified Jimmy's fate, no matter how hard he tried to hold back the avalanche of his emotions.

He felt _something_ even before all that – but he didn't know how to explain it to himself at the time; he'd keep brushing it away until he no longer could. He doubted he'd be the one to make the first step, but what if-

What if it was always meant to go this way? What if they were each other's saviours and curse at the same time?

But no – the curse were other people, the world, society. Thomas's life would never have been ruined like this if they didn't have to lie. They wouldn't have to lie if they didn't have to sneak into the bedroom. And they wouldn't have sneaked into the bedroom if they could be together openly. In a nice cottage of their own, like the Bateses, for example. Loved by each other, loved by everyone else. _They_ could never have that…

_Jimmy lowered his voice to a whisper even though the rest of them had already gone inside._

_"I'll come and visit you in the village while you're still there. Today, tomorrow – as long as I can!"_

_Thomas had to break the eye contact for fear of getting overwhelmed._

_"Thank you, Jimmy. I'd like that," he replied, his voice shaky._

_He was standing there with his black coat and bowler hat on, gloves as well, an old leather suitcase by his feet._

_It was a chilly and foggy morning, and the air smelled dewy and of fallen leaves and acorns from the trees everywhere around the estate. Everything was glistening in blurry orange and amber tones and there was mist in the air._

_Jimmy could see Thomas's eyes glossing over, but he did his best to hide his emotions. Jimmy felt the same ache in his chest, so he understood; they couldn't afford to make a scene._

_He watched Thomas as he removed his glove and reached out his hand. Jimmy shook it, squeezing it so hard for a moment as if he didn't want to let go. And he truly didn't._

_The next few moments were a blur; Jimmy didn't quite register when Thomas's hand let go of his own. He heard Thomas say a broken goodbye and he heard himself replying with the same words, but he felt almost caught in a trance until he finally felt a cold, empty nothingness in the spot where Thomas's hand had held his own mere seconds ago._

_He remained stood outside in the servants' courtyard, looking on as Thomas's dark figure slowly made his way down the narrow, pebbled and leaf-strewn path, leaving Downton behind. Leaving Jimmy behind._

_There was a gaping hole, an emptiness in his chest. He loved Thomas, he did! He would rather have nothing right now if he couldn't have him. Jimmy had taken it all for granted; seeing that handsome face every morning as he came down for breakfast, chatting with Thomas as they smoked in the courtyard during breaks, just the two of them, hearing those witty remarks and laughing along as Thomas laughed, his perfect wide smile beaming and brightening up the room; brightening up the dull everyday that Downton was without him._

_The only person who meant anything to Jimmy was walking away – and it was his fault._

He couldn't even say a proper goodbye. A lousy handshake!

Well, at the very least Jimmy could curse them all in his mind, from O'Brien to Carson – himself too! _He'd_ been such a fool – but _that woman_! That woman was so evil that she was prepared to lie and steal just to get Thomas sacked!

What it was for, Jimmy didn't quite know. He thought about it intensely, but he couldn't come to a conclusion other that it must have been fueled by revenge.

But then he found his anger slowly and gradually subsiding as the day went on, and he decided on a different approach. An idea arose together with an opportunity and Jimmy chose to take matters into his own hands. It wasn't too late yet.

Next day after lunch, Miss O'Brien had gone to the village to run some errands, and it was at that point that Jimmy knew – he felt it in his bones – he had to take the chance.

He was well aware of the risk; not just of going through someone else's stuff and potentially stealing something – even going up the women's staircase to her bedroom could be very dangerous.

However, there was no alternative; the door between the men's and women's side could only be opened from the latter side, so he had no choice. If anyone was to catch him there, he'd have to make something up; maybe that he was returning something to someone or a similar lie.

But thankfully luck was on Jimmy side, at least as far. He'd snuck into Miss O'Brien's room unnoticed, and he was dreading the moment when he would have to get out.

Right now he was at the hardest part, desperate and under time pressure to find something, _anything_ he could use against her. Something that would force her to clear Thomas's name.

Jimmy didn't know what he was looking for, he didn't know what would help his cause, he didn't even know if there _was_ anything to hold against that wretched woman…

He hastily shuffled through the small drawer of her nightstand, but there was nothing of use there; he got down on his knees and looked under her bed, then lifted the pillow and even the mattress in hopes of coming across something notable there, but he was once again disappointed.

_Oh, come on! I know you have secrets! Anything, some kind of letter, something you stole_ – he knew that this one was too much to hope for – _proof that you're blackmailing someone, anything I can use!_

Jimmy proceeded to open each one of her drawers, and doing his best to be both quick and to cover his tracks from browsing through. He felt ridiculous rummaging through that woman's personal belongings, but this was more important than anything else.

He was suddenly overcome by a need to let out a hysteric laugh; what had become of him?

Sneaking into his employer's guest bedroom at night to do illegal things with another man; sneaking into a fellow employee's room and digging through their private stuff to find something to blackmail her in order to clear his… lover's… name.

What an odd thing this was to imagine. But that's what Thomas was, wasn't it? They'd done things together that made their relationship impossible to call anything other than-

_-What?_

Jimmy suddenly felt a small bunch of papers under his fingers. He pulled them out of the drawer, seeing that they were in fact letters, tied together neatly with a leather ribbon.

He anxiously turned around towards the door as if reassuring himself that no one was coming, and then he focused right back on the letters.

His hands were shaking with both fear and adrenaline rushing through his veins.

_Please, please, let this be something that will make things right!_

He fumbled with the ribbon and finally managed to untie it, and then hastily – but carefully – opened the letter that was lying on the very top of the pile. He took a big breath and then began reading its contents.

_My dear- _Lady Flintshire?!

What the bloody hell was this? O'Brien writing to Lady Flintshire?

He curiously read on and figured the letter was likely never meant to be sent. It must have been a draft; some words were crossed out and replaced.

_Grateful for your offer… cannot thank you enough… immensely value your kindness…_

All flattery and gratefulness, but empty at the core – typical O'Brien!

Jimmy didn't read whole sentences; he mainly just glossed over, searching for anything out of the ordinary, something that could point to-

_… as soon as you know the exact date… will gladly join you-_

He had to blink a few times to make sure that he wasn't imagining the words on the paper.

_-join you as you leave for India._

What on earth– India? O'Brien?

As far as Jimmy and everyone else in the house knew, the cunning lady's maid never mentioned resigning – and even if she would be-

No, this was good! This was marvellous! This was something he could use against her! Making plans behind everyone's back won't go down well with Lady Grantham – not with anyone at the house!

Jimmy was certain she didn't know – Lady Grantham wasn't actively looking for a replacement for O'Brien, which she would be if she was expecting her to leave.

He tucked O'Brien's draft into his pocket and shuffled through the rest of the letters again.

The bunch looked bigger because there were some blank sheets of paper at the bottom, but now Jimmy could see that there were in fact only three letters, plus the draft that he'd just read – but all the letters were addressed to O'Brien in the same handwriting – one that had to be Lady Flintshire's!

It wasn't just plotting and scheming – she was arranging another job for herself, under everyone's noses! This was hard evidence that could push O'Brien into a corner!

_Thomas, we've got her, _Jimmy thought and felt his heart racing wildly in his chest.

He could have just taken all the letters and read them in his own room, but he was too caught up in this intrigue. He needed to see what Lady Flintshire had written first to O'Brien. Did she offer her the position herself?

He proceeded to open another letter and rapidly began reading it to confirm his suspicions.

He first looked at the top corner – the date was 11th October, only four days ago!

_Dearest O'Brien,_

He skipped the formalities in the beginning and glossed over the contents of what was written.

_…appreciate your dedication… been a good friend to me over the few days that we had you… clearly already know me far better than my maid Wilkins…_

Jimmy scoffed under his breath. She had the Marchioness wound around her little finger!

_…would wish for nothing more than to–_

Jimmy shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other.

_–have you serve in my household in India as my new lady's maid,_

This connects all the dots! It was more than enough!

Jimmy was ecstatic and he noticed that his hands were shaking even more furiously from excitement.

These two letters – Lady Flintshire's and O'Brien's – they'll do perfectly! They're exactly what's going to make O'Brien confess to what she's done _and_ fix it!

Jimmy's lips stretched into an overwhelmed smile and he felt like he could almost cry from relief.

_She won't be able to worm her way out of this one! _he thought. This was going to get Thomas back.

Jimmy grabbed the rest of the letters and tucked them behind his back, behind his belt. He put everything in the drawer back the way it was, and he carefully exited the bedroom.

There was nobody up here, nor should there be at this time of day, but his palms were still sweating nervously.

All things considered, getting out – apart from the potential of getting noticed – was easier. He didn't have to risk it by going down the hallway on women's side. All Jimmy had to do was turn the key and push the door separating the men's and women's side open, and there he was; in the hallway on the 'right' side.

If anyone wondered why the door between the two sides was unlocked, _he_ wouldn't have to worry since it could only be opened from the women's side. He was relying on people simply assuming that one of the women forgot to lock it – in any case, it wouldn't be _his_ problem, because it practically _couldn't_ have been his fault.

Jimmy dashed down the men's hallway and then down the stairs. He was headed to the servants hall to wait there and face O'Brien first thing when she would return.

But to his surprise, he all but ran into the woman on the staircase that connected the servants' hall to the Crawley's dining room.

Jimmy's body suddenly froze as he saw her walking up the stairs, but words still escaped his throat.

"Miss O'Brien, I- I need to speak to you," he addressed her as politely as he could, considering how he felt about her and how little respect he had for her after everything that has happened.

"Do you? What about? Can it wait? I have to-"

"It's quite urgent, I'm afraid," Jimmy said, wasting no time.

The woman looked him up and down from head to toe suspiciously and then walked two steps up so that she was standing on the same stair as Jimmy.

He suddenly felt a bit discouraged, remembering that she was in fact his senior and superior in some way, but he knew what she had done and it made his stomach turn with disgust.

The footman gestured her to follow him to the landing where they wouldn't be standing in the middle of the staircase.

"Well then," she urged him impatiently.

Jimmy began, lowering his voice into a whisper: "I know about your plans. I know who you've been corresponding with. And I know it was you who planted that thing into Thomas's room to frame him."

O'Brien's face went slightly paler and her lips drew into a tense line – but then she suddenly burst into a casual smile in an attempt to conceal her very justified concerns.

"Now, James, I know it must be hard to lose your… friend – but you can't just make there things up because he'd been stealing from his Lo-"

"I have the letters," Jimmy interrupted her with no regard to her empty words. "They're hidden safe," he added. "I'll show them to Lady Grantham, to Mr Carson, to everyone – and they'll know _you're_ a liar and a thief, and that you know nothing of loyalty!"

She stood there, her mouth slightly parted in disbelief. He'd never seen baffled like this, but he did sort of enjoy it.

Her lips drew together again and she made a hasty move to walk away.

"I don't have time for empty threats-"

"If you say you lied about seeing Thomas they might let you stay on, but if I show them the letters you'll fall out of their good graces forever," Jimmy warned.

It made her pause in place, her back turned towards the blonde footman.

He suddenly remembered something – it was bold, but he knew it would work. He began rushing down the stairs.

"I lied too, by the way," he called after the woman. "I have them here, the letters. I'm going to show them to Mr Carson."

He'd almost reached the bottom of the staircase when he heard her nervous footsteps quickly following after him, and he turned around to see the woman's horrified expression.

"No!" she called after him. "Wait, wait, just-"

Jimmy didn't listen. He quickened forward and stopped only a few steps away from Mr Carson's study when Miss O'Brien's frantic hand grabbed his wrist.

"Wait, James," she begged. She couldn't have known whether he was bluffing about the letters, but there was no mistake – he knew about the correspondence, and that was alarming enough.

"You can't expect me to say I lied and planted that box!" she hissed in disbelief, looking anxiously around for anyone who might overhear them.

There was no one in their immediate vicinity; there were a few heads in the servants' hall, but they weren't paying attention to the pair.

"I don't care what you say," Jimmy hissed back. "Tell the truth or make something up – _I_ don't care!"

Her face was getting as pale as the wall behind her. Jimmy's plan was working. She was cornered. She was finally getting a taste of her own medicine.

"Alright," O'Brien began, trying to calm Jimmy down, as well as herself apparently. "Just give me a few days to-"

"Like hell I will!" Jimmy almost bellowed. "So that you can steal the letters back or weasel your way out? Long enough so that Thomas leaves for good?"

He was seeing red and nothing else. He wouldn't let her get away with it!

"But what _can_ I do?!" she said almost desperately now. "I can't just make up something now!"

"I said I don't care! Just make sure you clear Thomas's name so that he can come back an honest man."

At this point he had a feeling that she may have begun to piece together the puzzle of why the button was in the room in the first place. Why Jimmy was so eager to help Thomas… But she couldn't do anything about it. She couldn't prove that they'd been-

"You can't expect me to-"

"You'll do as I say, or I'm opening this door and spilling your secret. Or _you_ can go in and tell Mr Carson that Thomas didn't sneak into the bedroom and steal that box."

He had no more patience left. "So," he stated. "Shall _I_ go in – or will _you_?"


	18. Where We Belong

"Jimmy? What are you doing here?"

Thomas was staring at the blonde man standing under the door-frame before Thomas's rented room at The Grantham Arms.

"You can come back," Jimmy blurted out, disregarding any form of greeting or introduction. He was squeezing his cap in his hands and his face was beaming with both delight and excitement.

"I made her fix it," he went on and awkwardly stepped into the room, moving closer to the confused man before him.

"I found some letters and I threatened her to give them to Mr Carson if she didn't admit that she set you up, and I don't know what she told him, but when they came out of his study they both looked so contrived, Thomas…"

He was babbling fast and with a lack of any proper coherence.

"And then Carson said he owed you an apology and that he'd come to you here in person, but I told him that I wanted to go, and I convinced him and-"

Thomas gently but firmly put his arms on Jimmy's.

"Slow down," he said and stroked his arms comfortingly, but Jimmy couldn't stop.

"You can come back," he breathed, eyes fixed on Thomas's.

The very moment he felt the other one's hands on his own, Jimmy became aware of how close they stood. An urge roused in him, starved and full of longing.

"You did that, Jimmy? For me?" Thomas mumbled in disbelief, gratitude shining in his eyes which looked like they were tearing up.

"You can come back, Thomas," Jimmy repeated. "To Downton, to… to me."

They were standing almost face-to-face now, and still Jimmy felt like they were leaning closer. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Thomas's. He wanted to kiss him, to touch him-

Thomas headed his wishes even though they were never spoken out loud. Recklessly, he pulled Jimmy in and pressed his mouth on his, hard and passionate. All the unspoken words disappeared between them, fading away together with longing and frustration and repressed desire.

But then Thomas suddenly pulled away and held Jimmy to arms' length.

"The door," he whispered to Jimmy's bewildered face and shot a look towards the open door behind them.

Jimmy turned around, still a bit entranced from the kiss, but realizing their carelessness. He paced over to the door and closed it shut, then turned the key in the lock and gave Thomas a questioning look.

The other man licked his lips and in a few steps he was by Jimmy's side, cupping his face and kissing him again while Jimmy's own lips parted willingly under Thomas's.

"How much time do you have?" Thomas asked breathless between the kisses, his voice sounding rough in his own ears.

"Enough," Jimmy mumbled in response, tugging at Thomas's clothes impatiently, his hands desperate to make their way to touch the other one's bare skin. He could already feel his pants tighten around his crotch.

They tumbled down onto the bed, eager and determined not to let go of each other for even a single second. Jimmy's back hit the mattress which made a squeaking noise but neither of them cared; the room was locked and they were too busy to worry.

"I thought-" Jimmy mumbled as Thomas was fumbling with his buttons, trying to undo his shirt. "Thought you'd left for good. Thought I'd lose you."

His last words were garbled into a kiss and his stomach dropped with desire as Thomas's hands moved across his bared chest, tracing the outlines of his body.

He wrapped his arms around Thomas's back, trying to pull him closer.

"Thought you'd leave me."

He wasn't sure what exactly he was saying anymore; he was getting distracted by Thomas's figure over his own, his warm hands and lips on his skin; they were chest to chest, with practically no more physical distance between them but they still craved for more.

"I didn't want to leave you," Thomas's rough, lust-soaked voice said. "But I couldn't because we- I couldn't-"

Jimmy's hungry kiss cut off the rest of his words.

"I know, it's alright, just kiss me, Thomas," he mumbled his request. "Touch me, god please, just-"

Thomas reached down to cup Jimmy's erection through his trousers.

Jimmy's eyes slid closed and he arched his hips into Thomas's hand, desperate for more pressure. A deep groan curled itself from the back of his throat as Thomas's fingers rubbed down the length of Jimmy's hard-on.

But then Jimmy remembered something. Something that found its way into his mind since the first night they spent together. Since the day he decided that he would stop resisting his feelings.

"Thomas, I-" he said and moved away from the other one's touch with great difficulty. He couldn't force himself to look Thomas in the eye; he knew his cheeks would go flush red if he tried.

He wasn't sure how to ask for what he wanted. He leaned against the headboard, taking a deep breath as Thomas settled himself beside him, looking worried.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," Jimmy said softly, reaching up to touch Thomas's cheek and wipe the concerned expression off his face. "I just… I was hoping…"

He gulped. He had no idea how to go about this matter.

"There was this one time… I heard some drunken lads at a pub talking about it," he began explaining in choppy sentences, avoiding Thomas's surprised stare.

"About the quee-"

He refrained from repeating the potentially derogatory term which the men had used.

"About _men_ like you… us."

He said the last word in a questioning tone, feeling that referring to himself as a man of _that sort_ was a very new and unusual experience – but it didn't feel wrong.

"They said that two blokes can do _things_ like… like a man and a woman can…" he explained stiffly. He'd heard about the 'method' of going about it, of course he had – but he wouldn't be bringing that up.

He'd been deprived of Thomas's touch for so long – had it only been a day? – it didn't matter – he needed Thomas's hands on his body, his lips on his own, his voice in his ears. After having had a taste, Jimmy wanted more, selfishly and insatiably, he wanted all of Thomas, recklessly disregarding the consequences and what he was asking they should do.

Thomas's initial concern was replaced by an almost shy uneasiness. He closed his eyes for a second, letting the words and their objective sink in.

"Well, yes they can," he nodded. "_We _can if you... uh…"

After everything Jimmy has given him, done for him – what he had done in the past faded away in comparison with all the light that Jimmy has brought into Thomas's life. He couldn't blame him; it wasn't malevolence after all, it was fear.

But none of that mattered anymore. _This_ was real, and Jimmy was all the reality Thomas could ever hope for.

"I want you to do that to me," a soft whisper spoke into Thomas's ear now. "I'm not sure I know _how_ it works… exactly. But I trust you and I know that being here with you has made me feel alive and I want it, all of it."

Thomas could feel his face going red at these words, and Jimmy himself was astonished that it was him uttering those scandalous words.

"I want that," he repeated and sank back into another kiss that made his mind hazy with desire deep in his gut. It helped – it distracted him from being too nervous to speak about these things, and it also helped Thomas relax a bit.

"D'you mean it?" the black-haired man asked almost in awe. Jimmy nodded sharply in reply.

Thomas's head dropped down and he kissed Jimmy's neck fervently, making the blonde's knees feel weak even though he was lying down.

"I do, Thomas. I want to feel you against me, with me, _inside_ m- _ahh_!"

The next thing to come out of Jimmy's throat was a deep breathy moan as Thomas bit his neck, arousal burning hot in his veins.

"Fuck, Jimmy," he whispered in a ragged breath that brushed warmly against Jimmy's exposed skin. "Don't say this, don't tease me-"

"I'm not," Jimmy insisted and cupped Thomas's face so that he could look him in the eye. "I want you – all of you. And I want to give you all of me. I used to fear wanting you, but now the thought of losing you scares me more than anything, so will you just-"

He stopped to take a breath and gather his thoughts.

"I want to love you for all the times that I should have done so in the past. I want to love you for all the days that we've lost already, and for all those that we will still have to let go because the world doesn't see our way. And I'm asking you to love me now because we're here and we can finally be together and who knows when-"

Thomas's lips found Jimmy's and a gentle but ardent kiss washed away the rest of his words. They leaned their foreheads together.

"Quite the romantic," Thomas commented and a huff of a laugh came from Jimmy in response. "Come here then," the dark-haired man said as he threaded his fingers through Jimmy's hair.

He crawled over Jimmy again and pushed one of his thighs between Jimmy's legs, who could feel Thomas's hard arousal pressing against his body again. He rutted his hips and rubbed himself against it as Thomas's lips continued kissing him, more roughly and with intent now.

"_God_, yes," Jimmy whispered breathlessly into a kiss as Thomas began moving with him, against him.

Their hands grabbed and tugged at each other's clothes wildly, working their way through all the buttons and clasps until the last layers of fabric separating their bodies had all been thrown down on the floor by the side of the bed.

The sun outside was low; orange and golden-hued rays ware casting a faint light through the curtains in the room, now illuminating Thomas's ivory skin, his bare back, thighs and backside.

Jimmy's body under him was only partly touched by the warm light; the side of his face was glowing gold, but it was constricted with pleasure as Thomas moved his hand slowly up and down Jimmy's erection. Thomas's own breaths were coming in heavy, low pants as Jimmy was doing the same to him.

"I think now we can…" Jimmy muttered. "Otherwise I'll…"

Thomas smiled softly through one of his moans.

"Yeah, fair point, me too."

He crawled off Jimmy and settled by his side.

"Alright. Well, uh… turn on your side then," Thomas instructed and leaned in to kiss Jimmy's ear.

Jimmy did as he was told and exhaled a deep and somewhat shaky breath. He closed his eyes to focus better on Thomas's hands; one of them on his hip and the other one in his hair.

Thomas's lips began kissing down Jimmy's neck and spine.

"Hmm," Jimmy let out a satisfied moan.

"Is this alright?" Thomas asked and pressed another kiss between his shoulder blades.

"Thomas, we've already done… things. I trust you."

Thomas felt his confidence wane at those words, even though they should have encouraged him. It was because he wanted it to make it pleasurable for Jimmy and he feared that his own lust could make him take things too fast.

He reached over to the nightstand by the bed and pulled out a little tub of petroleum jelly.

"Is that for…?" Jimmy asked insecurely as he looked back. _Oh god! Well, of course…_

Thomas nodded, but Jimmy let out a breathy laugh that provided a poor disguise for his own nervousness.

Jimmy attempted to diffuse his own anxiety with humour.

"So you always have that conveniently by your side? Carrying it around?"

Thomas grinned.

"It's got many uses," he commented with a small smirk. "_This_ is just one of them, but arguably the best."

He placed the palm of his gloved hand on Jimmy's cheek, kissing him softly on the lips, trying to ease the tension that was etched across his face.

"It's going to be alright," he assured him.

"I know it is," Jimmy replied and stroked Thomas's arm. "It's you, ain't it?"

Thomas's expression beamed with a blissful smile before he settled himself next to the other man, pressing his chest against Jimmy's back and kissing his shoulder blade. Jimmy bit his bottom lip as he could feel Thomas's hard-on pressed against him as well.

Thomas's hand rand down Jimmy's side and his hip, dipping slightly forward, but then changed its course and continued down the thigh and circled back to rest on Jimmy's backside where it stopped.

Jimmy felt too uneasy to turn around and look, but he was only vaguely aware that Thomas had unscrewed the lid of the tub and smeared some its contents on his hand.

Next thing he felt was Thomas's breath on his skin, right before his lips brushed against it tenderly. Jimmy closed his eyes as the trail of kisses wound its way down his spine, all the way to his buttock. One of Thomas's hands continued to rest on Jimmy's hip while the other one began exploring the place it hadn't yet touched.

Jimmy reflexively flinched upon the first touch of Thomas's fingers and Thomas moved the hand away.

"No," Jimmy reached back to grab Thomas's wrist and keep it in place. "No, keep going, I'll get used to it."

Thomas's looked at him in awe and his lips pressed a kiss on Jimmy's neck.

"Alright," he whispered, his voice somewhat reserved. "Try to relax."

He left another kiss on Jimmy's neck and then his shoulder, all while his fingers returned to the spot.

Jimmy's brow knitted and he set his jaw. He didn't like it at first – but then it got better ans he was still painfully aware of Thomas's hard-on that was pressing against the back of his thigh. It was setting his skin on fire.

Thomas's other hand moved from his hip to cup Jimmy's erection and this drew a low moan from the blonde's throat.

"_God_, yes!" Jimmy groaned.

He felt his erection throbbing inside Thomas's hand which was stroking him at the same time; slowly, but with just the right amount of pressure that those movements, combined with the spot the other hand was hitting, made Jimmy slowly lose himself in the sensations.

His hips pushed into Thomas's hand, craving for more contact.

Even though it was an odd experience for Jimmy at first, the tension in his body was slowly washed away because he felt safe; he knew Thomas loved him and even though he still didn't fully trust himself with all of this, he did trust _him_.

_That's not so bad,_ Jimmy thought, his mental and physical reservations gradually getting replaced by newly awaking lust and growing desire.

Something else took over when he was with Thomas – not just in this sense, but whenever they shared a moment. It was that same something that made Jimmy risk everything to be with Thomas; that something which made him risk getting sacked to clear Thomas's name; it was what made him reckless and irrational and brave enough to dare stand against the world. It was love.

And then when Jimmy was coming undone, Thomas's fingers moved away and he crawled on top of Jimmy, both turning around so that they looked each other in the eye.

They stayed like this for a moment and then Thomas sunk into him.

A new feeling overwhelmed Jimmy, taking his breath away for a split second. It was a mixture of pain and pleasure, deep and intense – and yet it was more still. It was a culmination of all the frustration and repressed emotions, the peak of the war which Jimmy had been waging on himself for so long. It was both an embrace of his own self and the embrace of what he felt for Thomas.

Thomas moved in and out of him; slowly at first, like waves gently crashing against the shore; but then Jimmy pushed his hips against Thomas too, wrapping his hands around the back of Thomas's thighs to draw him closer, to take more of him. They fell into a rhythm and moved faster and faster. Thomas dropped his head down, the black strands of his hair falling over his eyes, and his and Jimmy's foreheads met, not with a thump but rather with a comforting lean against each other.

Jimmy's mind had given way to the overwhelming sensations that were shooting through his body, making him feel as if he could lose himself in the intensity of it all.

All he could hear was their breathing, rough and ragged. All he could feel was Thomas inside him. All he could see was Thomas's face looming above him, his crimson lips parted and panting, his eyes shining with awe and devotion. Jimmy found it so arousing.

"_Ahh_\- ah, Thomas, yes, please," he begged, his voice weak and breathless. He was drowning in pleasure and sheer bliss.

Each thrust made him crave more, made him lose control and move against Thomas harder, faster, with each thrust he was brought closer to climax.

"God, Jimmy, you're so- _ah_-"

Thomas's thoughts faded away unfinished. It was too overwhelming. It felt unlike anything ever had – it was Jimmy, his darling Jimmy. He wanted his love and Thomas had so much of it to give. He loved him more than anyone ever before, and Jimmy loved him back.

Jimmy felt Thomas's hand wrap around his erection and he dug his fingers into Thomas's arms, searching for balance because he had lost any proper sense of stability.

He felt as if he were caught inside a burning building; the fire that was blazing all around threatened to devour him, but he didn't care anymore. It was so liberating; he wanted to burn with Thomas.

His eyes flew open and his lips parted but no voice came out; Jimmy felt Thomas come inside of him and his own orgasm rippled through his veins, following suit. Thomas's lips pressed against Jimmy's, all their love contained inside that kiss.

* * *

The sun had almost set, and dusk was slowly settling down over the Yorkshire countryside in shades of dark purple, blue and burnt orange. On a bed in a small rented room at the Grantham Arms, two bodies lay entangled together, skin kissing skin.

A head of golden hair was resting the other one's chest and listening to his heartbeat. A gloved hand, the only item of clothing that was still covering either of their bodies, was threaded through the blonde hair.

"Shouldn't you go back?" Thomas's low voice asked. "Well, both of us, I suppose?" He was hoping that Jimmy would be supportive with a 'no', but he also knew that they had responsibilities.

"They'll manage without us a while longer," Jimmy replied despite Thomas's expectations, and tangled his fingers with Thomas's other hand. "It's still two hours till dinner anyway."

"But what will we say? Why did it take us so long to get back?"

Jimmy's breathy smile brushed against Thomas's skin.

"We'll make something up, won't we?" he casually replied. "I'll say you weren't all too eager to get back after being thrown out under false accusations. I wasn't able to convince you using tired and true methods, so I had to get _creative_," he said coyly and left a kiss on Thomas's chest.

He heard Thomas's laugh and it filled his heart with joy.

"But maybe…" Jimmy continued slowly, unsure where his train of thought was leading him. "Maybe we could… _not_ go back?"

Thomas's body shifted under his own.

"What d'you mean?" he asked and Jimmy lifted his head up and settled himself beside the other man.

"Only that perhaps we don't need to," he shrugged.

Thomas's brow furrowed in question.

"You came here to tell me that I'm allowed to go back to Downton, and now you're saying that we don't have to return?"

Put into words like this, Jimmy did have to admit it sounded strange. His thought was only a fleeting, brief idea, an alternative.

"I know, Thomas, but…"

He struggled to express what he was considering, and his hand moved higher where his fingers began tracing little shapes on Thomas's chest.

"See, we're here and we're free. Almost... But back there in that house, we're constantly under scrutiny. We've no autonomy."

One of Thomas's eyebrows darted upward but he listened as Jimmy continued.

"Old Carson tells us what and how to do it, decides whether we can have a half-day or not; and needless to say that Lord Grantham is in charge of everything as it is."

"What are you saying? You want to leave service?"

"Only that I want something where I can be free. With you. Something where we can be together without people always watching and judging our every move, where we can be out own masters. I know we can never be ourselves in front of the world, but there must be a way for us to have more freedom and independence than we have at that damned manor."

Thomas felt something stir in his chest as Jimmy spoke those words; it wasn't pain or discomfort, but rather something indefinable. Perhaps it was closest to ardour.

"Leave? Both of us?" he asked, his tone somehow indicating both reservation and enthusiasm.

"Maybe," Jimmy said again. It seemed to be his favourite word in this conversation. "People do all sorts of things nowadays." He pondered for a second. "I guess we don't have to leave right _now_, not today. But we could start saving up and come up with something in the mean time?"

"Leave service," Thomas thought out loud again.

"With Jimmy Kent," Jimmy added with a smirk and leaned in to kiss the pensive expression off Thomas's face.

"You're really willing to leave all of this behind so you could be with me?" the dark-haired man asked unguardedly while his palm was caressing Jimmy's face.

Jimmy looked down towards Thomas's bicep.

"I love you," he said in reply, his voice quiet but candid. "I don't care where I am or what I leave behind as long as I'm with you."

"I love you too, Jimmy," Thomas said and muffled his emotion-filled voice with a kiss on Jimmy's lips. Maybe it wasn't perfect, but their dream was more than he could ever have hoped for.

Jimmy settled himself lower again, resting his head back on the same spot on Thomas's chest.

He remembered the Gypsy woman and the pocket watch and the fair. A pleased smile stretched across his face.

"If all else fails, we can still run away with the Gypsies," he commented quietly, much to Thomas's bemusement.

"What?"

Jimmy laughed and intertwined their fingers together again.

"Never mind that," he said. "We'll make it work, as long as we're together. That's where we belong."


End file.
